That Which is Forbidden
by Nehan Shinzui34
Summary: In a time run by corrupt clergymen and religious fanatics, Erik Lensherr is a revolutionary sent to infiltrate the home of Sebastian Shaw, a corrupt religious leader trying to gain more power as the pope. He didn't count on falling in love with his son.
1. Servant

That Which is Forbidden by Nehan Shinzui

a/n: I'm not supposed to be writing this. Once again, as I try to focus on one fandom, another one comes out of the blue and beats me in the face with pairings. In this case, X-men: First Class and Cherik, or Charles/Erik. It's one of the most wonderful pairings I have ever witnessed. *bursts into hysterical fangirl tears* Um, ahem. I've already had a story out for this pairing and while I like the other story very much and am working on it as we speak(*shameless plug* go read it now and review it's amazing!), I made a prompt on the kink meme that did not get filled! _ So I felt the urge to do it myself. Even though I didn't want to, because number one my Internet service doesn't work so my updating scheme is going to be retarded as hell, and secondly I have so much work to do in other stories that I plan on finishing, that I'm already behind in and I'm in summer school and erg. Anyway, hope you enjoy the story either way and PLEASE review, they're like water to me. Also, I think you should read the a/n's sometimes cuz there might be important stuff.

**This story contains some elements of the movie _Atonement_, but I actually haven't seen the movie yet, and another story that someone wrote. I'm trying to be as historically accurate as I see fit, but this story is set in no specific time frame and events may seem a little out of place. That's all for now.

Summary: In a time run by corrupt clergymen and religious fanatics, Erik Lensherr is a revolutionary sent to infiltrate the home of Sebastian Shaw, a sick and twisted member of the papacy who seeks to gain even more power as the didn't count on falling in love with his son.

Chapter One: Servant

The estate overlooked the countryside. That much Erik Lensherr knew, before they'd told him. He had two children, one that studied directly under him, and the other a little too young for that. He knew one was a girl, but he couldn't be certain of the other one. The mother was cold and manipulative-she was also taken to drink in certain hours.

If all went well, within a year, their deaths would spark the revolution.

...

He started his work immediately, Sebastian was not one to dolly on things like this. He was to work in the field for the majority of the day, and around noon, he could rest. He was to sleep in the lodgings supplied at the edge of the field and take his dining there. All of the servants were expected to be dutiful Christians and he was expected to join them in prayer. He wasn't to speak with the children.

...

Naturally, the girl took every oppurtunity she could to speak with him. She was about twelve years old and quite talkative.

"We hardly ever get visitors besides dull church people, and we can hardly talk to them, unless murmuring something in prayer." Raven told him. "It's quite boring, really. Father never lets us go into the village, unless I'm with mother and she isn't any fun at all." She did so love to talk about herself. Erik found this most useful.

...

Charles didn't get to see the servant until two weeks after he started his work. Erik caught him in between commuting from the church and his lodgings. He'd fallen over, carrying an obvious limp and Erik had offered him a hand, lifting him to his feet. The boy had blushed, his pale skin turning a bright red, and his eyes looked worried, but sparked with interest at the man before him. He'd mumbled a soft and nervous 'thank you' before seeing his father behind him and scurried off.

...

"Oh, that was just Charles," Raven told him, when he'd inquired her about it later.

"He is your brother?"

"Yes, but father keeps him studying the scriptures all day. He is hardly ever allowed to come outside except for prayer and if Father needs to make some sort of very important appearance somewhere. But mostly he keeps him out of things."

Raven, being a girl, was not privy to as much attention from her father as her brother. Sebastian and Emma apparently took certain roles and so Raven was more under the care of her mother than anything, and that had spoiled her. As for Charles, he was the sole heir to his father, and he'd had his own plans for him, and kept him away from worldy things.

...

Raven liked to watch him in the fields. He found it a little amusing, her in her frumpy and dull dress, her now loose hair blowing in bedraggled strands against the wind. She had a crush on him, that much was obvious.

...

Charles was seventeen, three years his junior, but whenever he so happened to see him, he seemed so much younger, his eyes wide and curious. Then they would return to weariness, whenever he was abruptly returned inside. This intrigued the man.

...

One day, it was apparently decided that Charles was to begin taking some of his lessons outside, as his confinement was beginning to make him sickly. He sat legs crossed, leaning against the stone wall of his home, eyeing the servant curiously. He'd never really seen men so hard at work before-it fascinated him. He couldn't really see them that well but he found the man very interesting. Usually all he got to see was Cook, who was a portly impatient man, and the maidgirl, who always seemed as if she were somewhere else. Neither of them ever gave him much oppurtunity to start a conversation. Now, however he was content to look at the bits of nature that father told him would lead to temptation if taken for granted. Every little leaf or insect or bird that fluttered by, fascinated him and were beautiful. He had stretched out observing a catepillar crawling across the ground, when he something caught his eye. It was the servant that helped him up once, though he hadn't really deserved it-he had backslided. The man looked flustered and a little irritated as he picked up the scythe to begin harvesting the crops. At first Charles paid no particular attention, but as the older man began to loom ever closer in his field of vision, his attention was immediately driven to a fine point that focused entirely on the man before him.

He was suddenly struck with something he had never felt before. As he watched the servant, lift the scythe into the air, his back muscles rippling, sweat creating a fine sheen on his body, Charles' breathing became increasingly labored. Heat spread throughout his body and pooled in his loins as Erik continued to work, his hair matted down on his head by sweat. Small noises and whimpers escaped his throat as he began to struggle with himself and this feeling. He'd never seen something so beautiful. But when he turned his head towards him, as if he could sense Charles staring at him in awe, as if he could read his very thoughts and those grey-green eyes caught his, carrying a predatory smile...

"Ah, you have escaped, _kleine Maus._"

_Oh._

Charles fled, nearly tripping twice as he rushed past the house servants and all the way towards his the monastary, chest heaving. Wobbling towards the fountain, he splashed the cold water onto his face and then abruptly dunked his head in.

He'd never seen a bare chest before.

But why was he behaving this way? And over a _man?_ He shook the water out of his eyes, cringing. He needed to wash himself. To pray or cleanse himself, whatever, to get these sudden thoughts out of his head.

...

a/n: Sorry that chapter was so boring, but I just needed to set things up for next chapter. It'll be more interesting once the story gets going, but I can't skip to the angst and tragedy and shmex, right? That's why I'll prolly double update. So um, yeah.

Please review and give me any constructive critiscim you find necessary. :)


	2. Temptation

That Which is Forbidden by Nehan Shinzui

a/n: yeah, boi! chaper two is up like whoa!

Chapter Two: Temptation

When Charles was young, his father told him he had been touched by angels. Nine times he and Emmaline had had children. Every time they had died before reaching their six month. Father had said it was because of his mother's lack of faith and his failure to prevent that. The tenth time Emmaline got pregnant, Father had gone away for a long time and did not return from his missionary until he was three months old. He had not named him yet, just in case God was punishing them again. However, by the Lord's graces he _did_ survive. Charles was a miracle, a gift for Father leading God's word to the heretics.

Because Charles was such a blessing, he had to be protected. He must be kept away from things that would corrupt him, and must be raised in the Lord's image. At least that was what his Father told him.

...

Charles found himself watching this servant, whenever he could. He couldn't help himself. There was something about him so interesting that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He was too nervous to actually approach of him of course-he'd leave that type of thing to his sister. Besides, Father didn't like him interacting with others unless absolutely necessary. Sometimes, he found himself wondering why there was such a discrepency between he and his sister.

...

After about a week or so, it was easy for him to follow the servant's patterns. His varied very little in comparison with the others. Every day he would awake at dawn with the other workers and begin tending to their gardens until around ten o'clock. Then he would eat in the servant's quarters with the others. He would eat quickly, and then wander the grounds for a while, until it was time to beign working in the fields again. Charles sometimes wondered about that, the way he alwasy seemed a bit furtive and kept to himself most days. But..it really wasn't any of his business was it? Still, he likes it best in the morning when the man is working in the gardens-he's much closer to him this way. So far, Charles has not had another moment like when he first saw him, and so he has felt more relatively at ease. But he remains, as youth always is, curious.

...

_In principo creavit Deus caelum et terram(1.)_

"Why not just go and speak with him?" Raven asks him one day, and he is startled out of his thoughts.

"Whatever do you mean?" he stammers, momentarily confused.

"_Charles_," she lets out an exasperated sigh. "You've only been gawking at him since he came here. Why not just-"

"Raven." Charles interrupts her, tightening his lips slightly. "You know we're not allowed."

"What is it about him you find so interesting anyway?" she asks, ignoring his reply. "You two haven't spoken a word to each other, and yet he seems capable of distracting you from your studies. Father would be displeased, you know."

Charles looks away from her, his ears reddening slightly as he remembers the man's well-defined shape, his grey-green eyes that touch him in his sleep. "Nothing." he says, almost to himself. "He seems...different..that's all."

...

His father has warned him of thoughts like this. But it isn't as though he is causing anyone any harm. Besides, he has begun to feel that this man may be important to him. A message somehow. How he gets these ideas, he doesn't know.

..

...

The dreams he begins to have of him, are like little vignettes mostly.

_Muscles rippling in the sun, arms turned golden from the heat_

_Stomach firm and glistening_

_Lips upturned in a slight smile_

_Those eyes focused lazily on him_

He hasn't gotten as close to him as he did the first time, but at night his image is pressed close to him, and he doesn't just stop with a smile and the acknowledgement of his presence. Sometimes he approaches him, a hand pressed softly against his cheek, a voice whispering lightly in his ear, always in a language he can't understand.

...

The way he thinks about him...he knows it isn't right.

But still...

The way those eyes looked at him, it seemed to Charles as if he could see the man's life in them. Behind the amusement, for the briefest moment, Charles has seen something akin to _pain_ in the man's eyes. And he can't help but wish he could find out why.

...

The autumn months are usually when his father returns from his missions. He always looks refreshed and has many tales to share with them of him enlightening the people in the other cities. Most of the cities were farther away than the one near where they lived and a lot of times, Father would tell him, he'd go and visit the villages. These people lived like beasts near the forests and acted as if they were like wild animals he said-almost as if they were 'born from beasts themselves.' This all very much fascinated Charles, but he wasn't allowed to ask so many questions, lest his father get angry. He can still feel the sting on his cheek from the last time he'd stepped out of place. Normally, if he was really desperate to know something, he would ask Raven to find out for him. Mother would often let things slip when she was around. No one really cared what she heard.

...

The servant is in the gardens again, and as Charles looks down at him from the kitchen window, he happens to look up.

Charles turns his head quickly and blushes.

...

a/n: Eh heh. Yeah, I know. Blah. But I do believe this is going to be a double update. (Really this time.) The funny thing about this story is, I plan on this being mega-long and I've even got some huge parts of the later chapters done but...um. I just can't think of a mega-awesome way to start the story, so things are gonna be eh. for a minute. But I do appreciate all the reviews and alerts I've gotten, so please continue to review please! And **Lizzy19191**, I may be able to update quicker next time. So put the gun down and don't do anything crazy, all right?

NOTES ON THE TEXT:

1. _In principo creavit Deus caelum et terram_

"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the Earth."

As a lot of people know, in Medieval times, Latin was the language of the church and the upper classes. Most people were illeterate as schooling was very expensive. The church owned most of the land in towns and religious leaders were usually very wealthy. Also, religious priests were allowed to marry, before corruption and favoring of family members caused the church to make up this rule, so that religious leaders wouldn't be so corrupt. Which leads me to Sebastian's estate, which I totally forgot to describe in the earlier chapter.

Alright, so basically, they live on this hill overlooking the town on one side, enircled by a wood on the other and their land with the crops and stuff on it all the way down to the outskirts of the town. So I wanna say they live about some miles from the rest of them. They have a small prayer area that's sorta churchish but IDK, really. Maybe I'll come up with something more later. Perhaps, the church where they live is sorta the church errbody goes to? Idk, sorry if I'm confusing people more...I'm better at _events_, really, not scenery, but I felt the urge to describe the place. It's got a courtyard and a garden and it's big as all hell...and..ok, let me shut up now.

BTW, did anyone notice I changed Emma's name? Forgot to do that last chapter. :) Again, pwease R&R.

Nehan Shinzui


	3. Anger

That Which is Forbidden by Nehan Shinzui

a/n: 7/20/11 What it do ya'll? I turned 16 July 6th you guys! And not a damn thing happened! Hurray! eh. Randomness. It's 12:12 right now and I'm tryna kill the sadness that working on annoying ass algebra homework has given me all day. *smiles, smiles* Summer school..*shudders* I'm actually tryna do a lot of research for this story but it's prolly gonna be a big ass motley of different shit piled together. Anyways, tired, so let's get this shit out the way and start it, as I try to ignore the fear that I am going to horribly fail this algebra test I have to pass tomorrow. At any means necessary. *eye twitches* I'm going to rock back and forth uncontrollably in a corner now.

Chapter Three: Anger

He found the work quite boring and monotonous. Things move in a tight circle for the first couple of weeks. _Patience,_ he tells himself. And boring is safer for now.

...

Erik is in the field when he sees him again. _He_ is crossing the grounds, his robes swirling around his feet, his eyes searching this way and that, his mouth moving rapidly.

And all Erik can see is fire, burning through his vision and all he can think is _lookaroundlookaround come see me recognize me, turn your head and _see_ me_

And the memory flares within him, of fire and screaming and blood so much blood, fading away but kept alive all these years, so he can do what he was _raised_ to do.

_look at me look at me turn around bash your fucking skull in please give me a reason anything_

Sebastian turns his head to the right slightly, and for a pregnant moment, Erik really does think he is turning to see him.

But he was only seeing his son, who was approaching him almost nervously. Lifting his head up, Charles said something to the man. Sebastian responded with a strong backhand across the face.

Erik only realizes how he has paused suspiciously in his work. And how he has held the scythe so tightly his palms have reddened/ He turns away from the argument and continues with his work, his jaw set in a tight line.

...

_Patience. It was one of the first things Azazel taught him._

_The two boys huddle underneath the branch watching as the sunlight glistens on the frost that suspends the leaf at an odd angle. He and Kurt have been sitting here for what seems like hours, both too nervous to step away from their task. After a little while longer, Kurt moves to his feet, shivering slightly in the cold._

_"I'm going to Father." he says uncertainly._

_"Wait a little longer, Kurt." Erik pleads distractedly, eyes still glued to the frozen leaf._

_"It's boring." the boy responds with a huff and he is already turning away, his footsteps making crunching noises in the snow._

_Erik sits there for a while, his legs cramping in the cold. His fingers shake as they sit in the snow. Suddenly, he notices the leaf tremble a bit. He stands to get a closer look._

_Ice drips from the leaf and Erik smiles._

_Spring is coming._

_..._...

When Azazel had proposed the idea to them, as they were all huddled in their tents, they for the most part knew it was a suicide mission, infiltrating the house of Shaw. Even if they succeeded, there was no way they would not be caught.

Erik had jumped at the oppurtunity.

_"And what if you fail?" Azazel asks him coolly, his ruddy features set in a bored expression, praticality suddenly dripping in his voice. Testing him._

_"I won't." he responds promptly. The other men murmur around him, there voices and doubts filling his ears. He ignores them._

_"I will join you." Kurt intercedes. "It will be safer if two of us are there. To look out for each other. Father, let me-"_

_"No." Erik interrupts him, and for a second, he wonders if there is some relief in Azazel's face._

_"Our plans will be easier to spot the more there are of us. With both of us working, he will grow suspicious. He may think things are going on. He will never expect such a bold move from one man."_

_There is a silence. _

_"Erik..." their leader pauses. "You are a man of true dedication. You have been like another son to me. I will be sorry to lose you. You are one of my best men. It may be a loss...too heavy to endure for us."_

_"Azazel," Erik says to him imploringly. " Within a year, Sebastian's death will be a signal. A sign that even _God's_ people can suffer for their crimes. That they are not as untouchable as they think. Can you imagine how this will inspire them? How they will rise, with you leading them, with their oppressor gone? You have said so yourself. We will show them, and give them _real_ reason to fear."_

_Azazel's eyes close, his face passive, draped by the strands of dark hair, that caress his ruddy features, his scars thrown into relief by the firelight._

_"I have taught you well, my son." he replies quietly._

_"It will be an _honor_ to die for this cause, sir."_

_..._

Sometimes Erik wonders if perhaps Azazel had secretly wanted or anticipated him offering himself up, in place of his own son. After all, they have no true bond with each other, besides that of student and teacher. It matters not. This is something he has always felt he must do himself. This meant everything to him.

...

_They are wandering among the bodies as Azazel leads the group through the remains of the burnt-out village, their young faces contorted in rage._

_"What have they taken?" their leader barks at them._

_"Everything!" Erik is responds enthusiastically with the others, his eyes set on a cross where a man has been impaled, the heads of children, stabbed into his arms, blood dripping down his robe which is covere in animals and stars. His butchered cock has been forced inside of his mouth._

_"What have they given?"_

_"Suffering!"_

_"And what shall we take from _them?"

_"Everything!"_

_"And what shall we give them?"_

_"Suffering!"_

_Erik is ready._

_..._

Later on, his thoughts suddenly drift to the boy. The girl is a regular presence now, and he wonders how the two can be so different. He recalls the pale skin, the eyes that widened in what seemed like panic when he had turned and looked at him. erik knew he had been watching him of course. Such a docile creature...

He really did resemble a mouse. He gave a small bark of laughter to himself as he turned in his small cot and faced the ceiling. He quickly frowns as he remembers him in the fields that afternoon, and the heavy slap his father had given him. If he recalls correctly, this is the first time he has actually seen him out past the courtyard. And he did so hate to see a father hit his child like that. Though Charles really isn't a child. Honestly, if it were left entirely up to him, he wouldn't involve either of Sebastian's offspring at all. They weren't involved with this. However... Giving a sigh, he rolls back over to his side, eyes clamping shut.

_It is such a shame._

Charles really was a beautiful boy.

...

a/n:kowabunga bitch! Um, yeah. Took that test today. EVERYONE PRAY FOR MY IMMORTAL SOUL THAT I PASS. Oh, and high-five for Azazel being an epic mentor and Kurt being here and not being of Mystique/Raven's spawn. Au for the win! Hope you like it, and I do believe there will be a Cherik encounter next chapter. But I really didn't want the bonding to happen too quickly, so things will be progressing slowly for them at first, then some mega UST, then lurve. I thought it'd be kinda stupid to have them all over each other, like instantly. Despite Charles being all "omg look at that sexy ass bitch!" in the first chapter. So take note, it's just a mild interest on Erik's part right now.

NOTES ON THE TEXT:

As you may have guessed, Erik's family is comprised of Gypsies. In Medieval times, and even until this day, the Gypsies have been targets have been targets of extreme prejudice like the examples you saw above(btw, things like this were quite common in those days) and their persecution has been largely ignored even though they were one of the most largely persecuted groups during the Holocaust. Many people in those times were paranoid of them and they were often used as scapegoats. They have been targets of genocide and racism for many years. Many church leaders in the Medieval times believed they were part of some conspiracy to oust the church and that's where some of my idea came from. I'd say Erik is part of the Germanic Gypsies that migrated to Europe in the Middle Ages. I know I'm not giving a very good summary of all this, and I hope I'm not somehow spoiling things for you guys or boring you, but there are many websites you can go to to look it up yourself.

As always hope you enjoyed it, and pwease review, review, review!

Nehan Shinzui


	4. Name

That Which is Forbidden by Nehan Shinzui

A/N:7/22/11 Well, first off I would like to thank you guys for your awesome reviews! The more I get, the more inspired I am to write. Well, quicker. You guys know I reread each of your reviews like eight times and flailed equally each time right? I'm so serious right now. They all just mean so much to me. And I'm really happy with the attention this is getting. I honestly thought the beginning of this story was so boring and I totally wasn't gonna get that many reviews, but I stuck with the good feeling I had, and I'm starting to get more hopeful for this story. So thanks a trillion for that! Oh, and special thanks to **Elphie21 **for pointing out that there prayer place is called a chapel. *faceplam* Shoulda been obvious right? Oh and I can just take a moment to flail over the fact that one of my fave Cherik ficcers **Romanec,** actually likes my story? *fangirl moment* Anyway, luff all you guys!

Chapter Four: Name

_The boy crawls near the debris of one of his neighbors houses, tears and blood staining his vision, and he trips, sprawling on the ground. He lays his head near the earth. It's easier to breathe down here. The sky is painted red, and the smell of smoke clogs his lungs. He is alone. The boy begins to sob in earnest._

_All alone._

_He suddenly hears a cough somewhere to the left of him and he leaps to his feet. The boy looks left and right and finally picks up a stone from what was the foundation of his friend's house. He tightens his fist around it, trying to stifle his sobs, knowing he has to be quiet. He's learned that much so far. Hearing the crunching of footsteps, he is afraid again and ducks for cover curling himself up beneath the rocks. _

_"I know you are there." the Voice says and the silhouette of a man comes in to view, and the boy understands that he was closer than he realized. He cowers further in the rubble. He wants his mama. He begins to cry again._

_"Shut up." the man says impatiently, and his face is shown in sharp relief as he moves closer to him. He bends down towards him, reaching for him and the boy begins to scream louder._

_"Mamamamamamamamamamamamama!" he twists his way from the man's grip, the bad man and he's going to hurt him and he's scared and he wants his mama and-_

_"Shut up." the Voice says again and grabs his hand, lifting him to his feet. He hits him once across the face. The boy grows silent. "The crying," the man continues his voice seeming gentler this time."...It makes you appear weak. You must never show them that."_

_The boy gives him a look of confusion, shaking his head._

_The man's eyes drift towards his hands, where the boy has forgotten he was holding the stone._

_The man gives a soft laugh, and for some reason despite the surroundings, the boy feels a bit less tense._

_"I can see you want to live then."_

_The boy wipes his face, sniffling._

_"Tell me boy...where is your heart?"_

_The boy has stopped crying if only for his confusion. Won't the man hurt him? He points a finger hesitatingly towards his chest._

_"Good. You are a smart boy then." the man nods, bending down until he is face-level with him."Then take my advice: Keep it where it belongs. Never on your sleeve."_

_The boy gives a nod. He doesn't understand._

_"Would you like to leave here?"_

_He looks around him, and notices another a little boy for the first time, standing just behind the man, clinging to his leg. He nods more certainly this time._

_"Then tell me, boy. What is your name?"_

_The boy stares up at the man fully for the first time. _

_He remembers what his mother would say whenever it was time for supper._

_"Erik."_

_He is three years old._

_..._

Erik hates the prayer services most of all. He rolls out of his bed,more of a cot than anything, tightening the band around his pants, stumbling a bit. He heads out of his bland one room quarters, and takes a moment to watch the sun peek its way over the horizon. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes for a moment, letting the small amount of heat wash over him. Then he follows the direction of the other servants and makes his way towards the chapel, following in line behind the others.

...

_Pater Noster_

_qui es in caelis,_

_sanctifice tur nomen tuum._

_Adventiat regnum tuum..._

Erik finds it all so very _stupid._ These people all pining for something they have never seen before, when there is life all around them, breathing and tangible.

These people consumed with death, anxious over things they could never even hope to control. Stupid.

If they all weren't such complete idiots, and had the ability to try and reason things out on their own, he'd almost feel sorry for them.

But the rest of the servants seem to be accepting with their oppression-if not happy, at least content knowing their place.

Well, as far as he can tell anyway. He doesn't exactly put himself on the market to be spoken to.

...

The day seems to drag on infintely for Charles. It is an unusually hot day-so hot, he can barely focus on the papers in front of him. He brushes it aside with a sigh-it's all things he's read hundreds of times already. Burying his head in arms, he closes his eyes.

He had gone to his father the other day and he had seen Him, after the hand struck his face, twisting it to the side.

He had been looking at him.

Charles had never been so embarrassed.

The servant had kept watching him, and his eyes seemed to burn holes in his head, swallowing him.

He had forgotten what he'd said to his Father. He'd almost felt the burning again, but had turned his head with a bow of apology to his father and hurried away.

...

Raven comes to him after awhile, as she always does and he gives her a smile of relief for giving him a small reprieve from his incessant studies.

She is excited he can tell, and she boucnes around his small room, splaying her hands on his desk, the way she always does, when she wants to tell him something.

"Is there anything in particular you want, dear sister?" he asks her.

"There's a surprise!" she gushes out to him, her face split in a wide grin.

"What is it?" he humors her, knowing what is next.

"A surprise, silly!" she taunts him. "I can't tell you."

He plays along.

"Oh, dear. Well, that isn't quite fair, is it? But I suppose if you can't tell me-"

"Father got a letter from Cain!" she blurts out suddenly, and Charles who'd felt so overheated before, suddenly feels his blood run cold.

"I'm sorry-?"

"Cain sent a letter. He's returning from Portugal. He wrote that he should be back by the time the harvest is over, maybe midwinter." She seems almost ecstatic.

Charles does not share this excitement with her.

He tries to remind himself he isn't a child anymore, that Cain is older now too, and there's no need to feel this lingering dread in his chest as if his cousin is still cornering him in a dark corner of their estate. He lets out a short cough, distractedly, hoping Raven doesn't notice his sudden tensing.

"Oh, how...how lovely."

"Father is already preparing for his return. Won't it be delightful, having him over for Christmas?" she beamed at him.

Charles gave her a disbelieving nod. "Yes. Sure it will be."

...

That night as Erik was wandering the grounds his thoughts plagued him again. Memories often came to him at night, when he was alone, and his location certainly wasn't helping. He'd spent the day halfway between an all-encompassing rage and a sort of bored nihilism. As it was, he was doing a drawn out pacing, the cool of the night a welcome respite from the sweltering heat of the day. The _crunch_ of brambles under his feet, drew him out of his thoughts and he realized he was at a part of the house he hadn't come to before. He cursed his inattentiveness.

Shaking his head, he rounded the corner, the faint sound of trickling water tickling his ears. It was then he noticed the flicker of firelight in an upper window of the house. Erik crinkled his nose. As far as he could tell, this part of the estate was mostly deserted. _Overcompensating bastards,_ he thought to himself. Curiosity piqued, he craned his neck to see the silhouette in the windowsill. As he turned more fully towards it, he noticed with a smile who it was.

"Ah, do they keep you locked away like a pretty maiden, _kleine Maus?_" he called up to him, and he saw Charles flinch and could almost hear him blushing. He really did find the boy's timidness amusing. This was bolstered by the fact that he was free to tease without the boy running off to his father. He gave a smirk, hidden by shadow.

"What're you doing here?" came the muffled reply.

"Walking." Erik answered shortly. "And what of you, up so late while the rest of the house sleeps?"

Charles' face appeared fully in the window, hesitantly, almost as if he were afraid. "I am studying."

"I have heard you are quite dedicated to your beliefs, _kleine Maus." _Erik says cheekily. "Is that why your father keeps you away from the fields."

If he is as pliable as his sister...

"Raven has a loose tongue." comes the put-upon sigh. Erik gives a laugh in return.

_Perhaps not._

"And do you feel cleansed yet, Master Charles?"

"Only the Lord will be the judge of that."

Erik frowned, his previous frivolity gone. "Does it not bother you that you spend so much time focused on death?" he says without thinking.

Charles leans his head a bit further out the window, the night sky painting his blue eyes almost black. "How do you mean?"

Erik gives a sigh. "How do you people claim to love life, but never spend any time enjoying it? All of you, so concerned with what will happen after your death, that you never stop to cherish the things about life that make it worth living. And by doing that, you lessen your own life, and the qualities of others. When there is life all around you-he spreads his hand towards the forest behind him-you ignore it, so focused on reaching this Eden you take no time to create your own."

There is quiet for awhile, and Erik scolds himself, believing he has forgotten his most important lesson yet again and makes his move to leave, regretting ever trying to quell his boredom in the first place.

"You do not bite your tongue like the others." Charles says.

Erik says nothing.

"I...I rather like that." he continues. "And you sound very wise. Not like the others."

"And you have someone to compare me to?" the amusent is back in Erik's voice again.

"Why did you help me that day?" Charles asks, and he realizes this has been a question that has bothered him for awhile.

Erik's face crinkles in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"That day I'd tripped and fallen...in the chapel."

_Oh._ Is the boy still worrying over so small a thing? "You needed help." he replied simply. "I would think the Master of the house automatically garnered such assisstance."

Charles says nothing. "You are different," he says finally.

Erik is beginning to grow uncomfortable. "It is rather late. I believe I should be going." He prepares to turn, but Charles calls him back.

"_Wait_!" he calls, and the urgency in his voice shocks them both. "Will you come and talk to me again? It gets...lonely sometimes."

Erik hesitates. If it will help him get more information...make things simpler...

"Yes." he tells him. "I will come visit you again.

"What is your name, servant?" he asks him.

"Erik." and then he slips into the darkness.

...

a/n: 7/24/11 Allllllllriiiiiiiggghhttt! How did you guys like that one? Sorry if things got all philosphical too quickly or randomly. Btw, I just want to say, Erik is three years older than Charles which makes him twenty and I think I mentioned Charles being seventeen? I keep hearing people talk about how Charles mention once how he met Erik when he was 17, so I incorporated that here. There ages are going to be sorta mega importante later so try to pay attention to that.

And Cain is going to be a very important character later on.

And ther you have it-Charles and Erik's first 'real' encounter! Any constructive criticism is much needed and loved!

NOTES ON THE TEXT:

The words in Latin were the first part of the 'Our Father' which is a daily prayer in Catholiscim.

Um, I think Portugal is one of the places the Crusades took place in, but I'm not sure at the moment, so don't take my word on it.

Please read and review, my inspiration comes quicker that way.

Nehan Shinzui

Aside:

RIP AMY WINEHOUSE

I had just written in one of the a/n's for my other stories how much her albums _Frank_ and _Back to Black_ had inspired me when I suddenly got the news of her passing. She truly was one of my favorite singers-still is actually. Her music got me through a lot of my updates and I really am upset that someone so young and talented had to die over something as stupid as drugs. It's really sad, especially since people seem to respect her work more that's she's dead than when she was alive. If people had cared more about her as a person,when she was alive, then perhaps the drugs wouldn't have seemed like such a good retreat. I'm not blaming anybody because it is true, she had some choice. I just wish the media wasn't so fucking hateful. Always hated the paparazzi. There are some sick people in that workforce.


	5. Ignorance

That Which is Forbidden by Nehan Shinzui

a/n: 7/27/11 I AM IN A COMA FROM YOU GUYS' REVIEWS! I can't tell you how much all of them mean to me. I freaking love you guys. Seriously. You're reviews get me some crappy moments in my life. You honestly have no idea. I just failed this Algebra test epically and I'm really depressed now because I absolutely have to pass it next year since I need it to graduate, and then that made me think about all the colleges I _haven't _even started looking at, and how I'm so far behind my brother who just got accepted into Berkeley and how the hell am I supposed to be a journalist, and my parents bitching at me and OMG TEEN ANGST CRISIS. And then you guys came and gave me such awesome reviews and I feel so much better. :) And someone even offered to write me a oneshot! Thank you all sooooo much! I'm trying to make the chapters thicker, because now I'm getting a bit closer to the parts I'd already planned out before. Shaw's here too! Isn't that delightful?

Chapter Five: Ignorance

He had spoken to him. Albeit briefly, but still. It seemed almost as if...

The servant-_Erik-_ hadn't talked to him the way other people did. He'd spoken as if he and Charles were equals-not as if he were afraid to speak to him, as if he spoke only in the most rigid and respectful tones. He'd spoke to him like...no, not like his father, something maybe close but he couldn't put his finger on it. His father spoke to him, always with expectations, excessive ones but like he was still a child. Erik talked to him as if he were a person. As if he felt that Charles could fully comprehend what he was saying and wasn't trying to hide anything from him.

He closed his eyes.

And...

Erik had _helped_ him, not because he wanted anything from him, but simply because he had felt he needed it. Charles doesn't think anyone has done that for him before.

From what he could tell, the servant was not much older than him, but he seemed so much wiser and mature. At first, he couldn't believe it was really _him_ out his window. He'd almost crouched under his bed and hid, like a young girl. He'd been almost _scared_ he realized. And then he'd looked out the window. And Erik had smiled at him.

But when he spoke of the Lord he'd seemed almost _angry_, his tone suddenly bitter. Charles had never heard someone talk like that. He was speaking as though...But Erik was wrong to think that way. It wasn't right.

He had wanted to tell Erik that God was tangible...that he was in everything. How could he not see that?

Charles had sounded like so stupid, like a desperate child next to him. Pratically begging the man to see him again. As if he would. As if he could.

...

But he _did. _After that first time, he'd come back almost every night. Erik seemed to care a lot about what Charles said, and always listened to him, asking all kinds of questions. After the first time, it is so much easier. He doesn't think he's ever felt this way with anyone besides Raven. The way Erik speaks as if he actually cares about what he thinks. It feels nice.

...

Sometimes they will speak in the morning, briefly as they are moving to chapel or Erik is in the courtyard. In these moments, they both have an unspoken agreement to act as if they do not know each other. But even without hearing it in his voice, Charles knows that there is something about this place that bothers him.

...

"Erik, are you unhappy here?"

The thought occurs to him suddenly, when they are in deep conversation, and Erik looks at him curiously. They are leaning against the wall of his part of the house, his head resting against the stone, the cool grass prickling his skin. Charles wonders what has gotten into him lately.

"I am..." Erik pauses and a shadow passes over his face. "...unused to places like this."

Charles smiles because it is now _his_ turn to ask questions. To try and find out about the other man for once. He understands that he's done very little of that actually.

"Where did you live before you came to work here, then?" He has noticed that Erik talks with a slight accent, and sometimes he speaks in a language he hasn't heard before.

The servant's lips purse slightly. He shifts his position the smallest fraction, and Charles feels his skin brush against his, heat rushing immediately up his face, and he is silently grateful for the darkness.

"I am from very far away from here." Erik responded to him vaguely.

"Are you from one of the villages?" Charles presses him. "What is it like there? What are the people like?"

Erik is hesitant to respond. "It's...just as any other village, really." he tells him slowly. He turns away from him.

Charles deflates. "Oh. I wouldn't really know about that actually." His face looks almost sad.

Erik raises a brow. "Have you never traveled with your father?"

"I've never been into the town."

Erik turns his head sharply. "Have you never left this place, Charles?" he asks and his tone is surprised.

Charles shook his head, suddenly embarrassed again. He notices that Erik is staring at him again. "Father won't allow it. He says it is a bad place. But I have always wanted to go there. At least once. To see what...what the people are like there. Or maybe..." he stops, realizing he is rambling.

"Why does your father keep you locked away like this, _kleine Maus?_" he asks him, his tone reflective. "Why does he not let anyone see you?"

"Because everywhere else is bad." And Charles wishes he'd been other places besides his home. He wants to impress this servant, and he knows that must be backwards and not how it works at all, but he's sure from the way Erik talks that he must've been a lot of different places. He wishes he could be like him. So confident and sure of himself. "It's...it's...Father says they're sinful."

Charles flinches then, knowing he has said the wrong thing when Erik tenses. He feels so stupid again. He can tell from when they talk, that Erik doesn't like talking about this. He's such a complete fool.

"And who would they be, _kleine Maus?"_ Erik's use of the word has lost it's playfulness. His gaze seeks Charles' in the dark. "You all seem to be so very preoccupied with sin, Master Charles."

"It is...it is our duty to be preoccupied with sin. Do we not all strive to be good Christians, Erik?"

"And what of those who get nothing in return?"

"The Lord will always repay those who believe in him."

Erik turns on him so abruptly, Charles falls backwards, so that he lays on his back with Erik glowering down at him.

_So utterly fearless._

"You are ignorant. You know _nothing_ of how those people suffer!" he nearly shouts, and then he looks around quickly, lowering his voice. "Has your Father told you of that?"

"I do not understand why...you are so angry, my friend." Charles gasps, his eyes fixed on the stars behind the other man's head, which have started to spin lightly.

"Because you are an ignorant _pissant,_ my friend." His last words were laced with sarcasm. Giving a final glare, he turns on his heel, leaving Charles on his back.

Charles watches him out of the corner of his eye, with no small amount of admiration.

...

Erik scolds himself as he enters his rooms, flopping on to his cot. He hadn't meant to snap like that. He didn't know why he'd reacted so abruptly. There was a part of him, that knew that Charles couldn't understand what he had said. It was just something he'd been forced into believing by his father. His fucking father. His father, who would keep his own son locked away from the world, crippling him. His father, who'd made his own son, so naive that he immediately trusted anyone who would sit and talk to him. Erik allows himself to feel a short pity before turning and going to sleep.

...

Sebastian isn't someone who you can persuade once he decided something. He isn't someone you can ask things. Charles himself has never questioned his father before, but at the moment, he is filled with something he can't identify. He has already broken some of his father's rules anyway, so he might as well try. Besides, he has a friend. Or he thinks he does. And that in itself fills him with a swelling of overzealousness. And his father doesn't even know it. It's so very thrilling.

Charles is giving a smile into his plate a couple days after he and Erik's argument. He is usually completely silent during the few times he is allowed to eat with the rest of them, away from his studies, so they are all surprised, when he suddenly speaks.

"Father?" he asks, and Raven and Emmaline both give him momentarily disturbed looks before glancing at his father. He thinks he sees Emmaling give him a small glance of irritance as if she wished he would go back to pretending he didn't exist. She probably does.

Sebastian turns and looks at him, and all the sudden confidence Charles had felt before instantly deflates. His father is sitting awfully close to him, and as his cold eyes give him an appraising look, he feels the familiar fear creep up his spine. He chokes on his next words.

"Father...I will...I will be following your footsteps one day..."

"Are you going to get to the point soon, Charles?" Sebastian asks, sipping from his glass. His eyes are devouring him. Charles' hands begin to tremble violently in his lap. He wishes he could say he wasn't afraid of his father, but the man's presence and authority always carries with him the slightest hint of malice, just beneath the surface. Already, his father's glare is enough to make him want to bow down and confess, to beg for forgiveness for speaking out of turn, for disobeying him, for going to talk to a servant. But his sudden, mad desire to impress this man...this...friend..is greater.

"I...I was...hoping...since...since I will have to...h-have to...that maybe I can go into the town and-"

The fist connects with his nose with such force it flings him out of the chair. He sprawls to the ground, and he sees Raven cover her mouth with her hands, his mother giving him a look of disapproval before continuing with her meal. His father calmly rises from his seat, his robes billowing around him like a horrible cloud.

"Charles." his father sighs. "After all I have taught you." He sounds disappointed, and Charles immediately feels the need to acquiese.

"Just to-to..speak with the-to sp-spread the word."

"No."

Charles raises to his hands and knees, crawling backwards away from his father, his voice pleading. "But...I must...I must...b-begin to-"

Sebastian kicks him in his side, causing him to fall over for a moment. Charles scrambles back further, unable to command his legs, his father mesmerising him like a snake.

"No."

"Father, please. Just once."

He is snatched by his hair so tightly, he can feel some strands ripped loose from the roots, and his face smashed so hard on the floor he can feel his teeth rattle, blood gushing from his nose.

"For he is the vine and you are the branch, without him you are nothing. Say it, Charles."

"Father, I-"

A slap twists his head to the side.

"He-he-he is..t-the vine, I am...I am the branch w-without him I am nothing." Charles is nearly sobbing now.

"Again."

"He..he is the vine I am the...branch without him I am nothing. Father, I-"

"Dear Lord, please deliver this boy from the sin of temptation that has reared its head against him!" Sebastian bellows, drowning out his son's voice, his hands suddenly crushing his. "You who are God, but also were man, who was tempted by the devil as any other human being, please give him the stength to reject sin and the grace to remain spotless as you are."

Charles gives a choked cry, as his father suddenly grabs him by the neck, forcing his lips to the ground, near his feet. Standing, he spits: "Pray for the Lord's forgivrness, Charles."

Raven is near tears.

"Just maybe to..." Charles begins again weakly, and his father kicks him in the mouth this time, and now he really is surprised he hasn't lost a tooth by now.

"I have told you about them, Charles." Sebastian bends down again, embracing the boy in his arms, who is now praying under his breath. He wipes blood from his face. "See what happens when you try to take for granted the Lord's will? See how much pain you are in, and was it worth it?"

Charles shakes his head no.

"See?" Sebastian's voice is loving now. "What could you possibly hope to see out there? I only have your best interests at heart, Charles. Don't you trust me?"

Charles nods instantly.

His father smiles indulgently at him. "What could have possibly given you such ideas in the first place, Charles?"

The boy says nothing. The smile slips from his father's face.

"Answer me."

"N-no no one sir. I was just...thinking...that maybe I am not like the other...boys my age...it-it would be nice...to see what they are like." He hears his mother scoff at this, and knows she and his father will probably discuss this further later tonight.

"No, Charles, you are not like them." Sebastian says, his eyes boring into his. "You are much, much better. Now come, sit. Let's push such thoughts out of your head, and finish your dinner."

...

Charles sits in his room that night, his head spinning. Part of him is terrified at himself for even thinking this way, but the other is excited and thrilled. Eriks has not visited him in two days, but maybe after this, he'll see him differently. He can't explain this desire to prove himself to him.

But he has already made his decision.

...

"I want you to take me into the village."

Erik's head snaps towards him. "You want me to _what?"_ The shock is evident in his face.

Charles has come to his quarters, which is something he would've never expected him to do, and his face holds a look of complete and utter desperation. His red lips perk up into a nervous smile, and for a moment, Erik is reminded of the boy's attractiveness and has to turn his head.

"You are supposed to be getting supplies for your lodgings today. Every servant will. If I accompany you, no one will notice. They will think I am another servant, if I keep my face covered. No one comes into my rooms. Ever. They will not notice I am gone."

"And why would I do this for you?" Eriks asks him in disbelief.

"Are we not friends?" Charles responds, and Erik is momentarily dumbstruck.

"We have hardly known each other, Charles."

"But when I asked you, you came to visit me. And we have talked. Does that not make us friends?"

"You would trust an almost stranger to take you into the town, alone?" he asks him sharply.

Charles pauses uncertainly. "Well, yes of course. I've done nothing to you. What reason would I have to fear? You have no reason to cause me harm." He seems genuinely confused. "You said I did not understand the townspeople-maybe this will help me be better able to."

Erik gives him a pained look before turning away. "You are a foolish boy." he mutters under his breath. "And what will happen if you're father-"

"He will be away until very late tonight. Perhaps he will not come until tomorrow." The boy's face perks up again. "The times coincide perfectly, see?"

"Absolutely not. I won't risk it." Erik said sternly, turning from him in irritation. If this boy jeapordizes anything...

"If you don't I will tell my father about you visiting me."

Erik freezes. _The little shit..._

He gives a slow nod.

Charles gives him that dazzling smile again, blue eyes brightened in merriment. "Don't worry. I'm certain this will work. I wouldn't let you get into trouble."

"What happened to your face Charles?"

He wipes at the bruise on his chin, offhandedly. "It is nothing. Father was just scolding me again."

...

a/n: I'm kind of dealing with some deadlines right now, so I wanted to get this out to you guys before it's too late. I may or may not post another chapter later today, but there may be a small delay in my updates. I hope things don't seem too rushed right now, but I want to point out that Erik and Charles' conversations span a period of a couple of weeks or so. It's a little difficult writing a religious type of fiction, since I don't necessarily believe in religion too much myself, but the subject has always fascinated me. And this is really difficult writing a naive Charles. Well, a totally naive Charles. And writing and displaying the emotions and character dynamics of Erik is even harder. So I would love and appreciate any type of construtive criticism you guys have to offer. God knows I need it, especially since some parts of this may seem forced. If I get any suggestions on how it could be better, I'll try to expand on that and I may or may not revise this chapter a little, when I have more time.

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!

NOTES ON THE TEXT:

I believe I forgot to mention what _kleine Maus _means? It just means 'little mouse'. I got this weird idea of Charles being this adorable innocent little mouse and the phrase _Mausi_ is just so cute in German!

The prayer thing Shaw was saying(can't tell you how weird it is calling him Sebastian in this fic!) I got from the Internets. And um, of you have advise on how the characters should speak, let me know. Because I'm trying to get them to talk like in Medieval times a little bit, but I'm a lazy ass, and did not feel like doing all the researh on speech patterns. Yeah, sue me.

Anyways, love and kisses.

Nehan Shinzui


	6. Stench

That Which is Forbidden by Nehan Shinzui

a/n: 7/29/11

BAM! Hopefully this will be posted around the same time as the other one.

Chapter Six: Stench

The first thing Charles notices about the town is it's smell. It burns his nose, nearly making him gag as he walks past the town gates, in step with Erik("Stay close to me!" he'd practically spat.) and he feels a wave of nausea flare in his chest. Covering his nose, he gives the other man a small smile. This place has a different smell-of rotted food, feces, human sweat, and a whole slew of decaying things, as well as what he recognizes as cooked meat hanging from an old woman's stalls-that he is not used to. He keeps the cloak wrapped around him, pulling it tighter across his nose.

He is in complete and utter awe. His senses are overwhelmed with new sights and sounds and smells, and he is ready to burst with the feeling. He wants to run in every stall, dash through the streets laughing like a child. But Erik gives him a stern look, and that keeps him anchored. Still, Charles keeps a curious eye out for everything, his mouth slightly agape.

"We are only getting supplies, little mouse." his companion tells him. "Calm yourself."

"But it is so...exciting." Charles breathes. He steps slightly ahead of Erik with a small glance back at him.

The town is more crowded than he could've imagined, the houses pushing against each other like weeds left untended. The streets are crammed with stalls, selling any object Charles can think of. Blankets, food, remedies, animals, bandages and-Charles blushes, quickly turning his head from it as he rushes past, chest tightened in horror-sex in one. He can't think of where to start. But Erik has already set his sights on a stall a bit ahead of them, it's battered wood giving off a moldy stench, and it's owner leaning heavily over it.

As they approach it, Charles notices that the man behind the booth is nearly skeletal, his bony hands idly pulling at the wool hanging limply from the top of the stand. Seeing an approaching customer, he smiles wickedly, exposing his filthy teeth. A bald patch gleamed from the enter of his head, liver spots decorating the dome and the man seems to be covered in a near blanket of grime, flies buzzing around his head. As Charles glances around, he realizes that this man isn't alone in his lack of cleanliness. The boy shudders, but he lets it roll through him. He can't help holding his breath for a moment though.

Erik is ignoring him for the moment, face crinkled in thought as he observed the thick texture of the wool, and his gaze drifted to the thin and now naked sheep that stood awkwardly in the pen. One nuzzled its nose against Charles' fingertips and he flinches backwards, nearly crashing into the taller male behind him. Erik gives him an idle glance.

"Your seamstress, she can work with this?" he asked him.

Charles gives a jerky nod, staring at the shorn sheep distractedly. "I've never seen one of these before; I don't believe we have any at home."

"How much?" Erik inquires, holding the wool above his head, checking it for kinks or dirt.

The merchant gives a hacking cough before naming his price. " 'es ten copper, chap. Top quality, that is. 'E gives good." he nodded towards the sheep. Erik rummages around in his coin purse for the money, mumbling about only getting fifty copper for his month there. "Your seamstress will barter for her work, correct? Winter will be coming soon, and I'm afraid the provisions I've acquired aren't adequate."

Charles wracked his mind. "She has a fondness for little things, I think. Maybe some fruit so she can bribe Cook."

Erik gave a nod, handing the coins over. The merchant's bony hands grabbed at the currency eagerly, but he erupted into another coughing fit, and he stumbles, the coins falling haphazardly out of his hands as he bends over with the force of it, and the slightest hint of blood speckled his lips.

Charles stepped towards him in alarm. "Are you alright, sir?" he asked, voice bleeding concern. He reached a hand out, as if to touch him, but Erik's grip on his wrist stilled him.

"_Do not touch him!"_ he hissed furiously, pulling him back. He tosses the wool back at the man, angrily. "Ten copper, _wasted."_ he snarls and he storms away, dragging Charles with him, who gives a brief, pitying look at the man still on the ground scrambling for the coins.

"And, _you!_" he suddenly turns on Charles, seething, "Are you so naive you do not recognize a sick man when you see him? Would even _touch_ him?"

Charles shakes his head slowly. "There was only one person who was sick here, and Father dismissed her." He pauses. "But you did not recognize it either, my friend. Were you that preoccupied?" his tone takes a slightly sarcastic tint.

The servant stares at him for a moment.

"You're mind goes elsewhere, I'm afraid." Charles continued slowly. "Tell me, is there something that is troubling you?"

Erik snaps out of himself, to catch his companion's imploring gaze. "There is nothing wrong with me."

"Ah, but your eyes tell quite a different story, my friend. Something is troubling you, it causes you to tense." he placed a hand on Erik's shoulder. "Whatever it is that angers you, remember that you must refrain from anger and turn from wrath; do not fret, Erik-it only leads to evil." Charles gives him a reassuring smile, and it fills Erik with an unexpected warmth and...something else.

Brushing it away he merely replied gruffly: "Just...if you see anyone coughing move away from them, understand?"

Charles nods.

...

They move along through the town, stopping at several more stalls(Erik has managed to negotiate with another man who wants ten copper for wool and bring the price down to eight-he has a fine touch in haggling) and Charles has begun to let himself wander slightly from the other man's tight grasp. He has never seen so many people at one time. They walk blearily along the streets, eyes averted from each other most of the time, though some babble excitedly about the latest gossip with each other. Street vendors shout out their prices and animals bleat and howl and growl. Children play and fight with each other wildly. It is a nearly frightening experience. He has begun to be slightly intimidated by the sheer size of the place; he turns his head nervously making sure that Erik is still a couple feet away from him at a vendor selling some type of small metal objects. This makes him feel safer.

Suddenly, he sees a small dog dash past him, a thin redheaded girl chasing after it. She stops after seeing it push its way through a thick knot of people and disappear into the crowd. She stands next to Charles, flopping her hands exasperatedly to her sides.

"Wiiiilllfreeeed!" she yelps desperately.

"Do not worry. I'm sure he will return." Charles tells her, in an attempt to reassure. "Animals are wild things-they like to explore. I'm sure if you treat him well, he will come back to you later." The girl turns to look up at him, her green eyes bright. "Who knows, perhaps he has found a friend."

"Do you really think he has found someone to play with?" she asks him excitedly, her gap-toothed smile radiant.

"I am almost certain of it." he says.

"Mother says I have a special talent with animals." she confesses eagerly. "If I try hard enough, I can make them do whatever I want. Some of the other children are afraid of me, but Mother told me I'm very special. She says I'm going to do great things one day."

Charles smiles, reminded of Raven. He bends down so that he is eye-level with her. "And what is your name, child?"

"My name's Jean. I'm eight years old and three quarters, sir. My family lives that way," she points to the left, where a dilapidated shack resides, squashed between two other buildings. Charles frowns at such poor lodgings-surely there is a more tasteful place for this small girl to be living.

Jean nods as if she agrees with his thoughts. "It's not a very nice place is it? That's why Mother is sending me to the church in a few years. When I'm ten." she adds as if to clarify. "Probably sooner. She can't really afford me, you see."

"Can't afford you?" Charles says in alarm. "What about your father?"

"He's up in heaven." Jean points to the sky. "He was a builder, and he climbed up so high, he fell right into it. Mother says if I go live at the church with the nuns, I'll be closer to heaven where Father is." The girl suddenly looks down at her feet, shuffling them. "I'm very nervous about going there though. What if I'm not good enough at the church and they make me leave? Then I'll never get to see him!"

"Jean." Charles says her name soothingly. "Do you believe in our Lord?"

The girl nods.

"Then there is nothing to fear. That is all He asks of you. You'll do wonderfully at the church. God is our father too-he won't let you stay apart from each other."

Jean beams at him. "I'll do my best then!"

"_Jeeean!"_ a woman calls weakly, and he hears coughing follow after.

"That's mum now. She's very ill." Jean leans into him conspiratorially. "Maybe I can ask God when I see him, if he will help her when I leave." she tosses a final smile in her direction, before running off to her mother's calls.

Charles stands back up again, his face sad. What a horrible way to live, having to give up your child. He was certain the church would provide for her, but he felt pity well up in his chest, giving his heart pain. How could anyone live in such poor conditions? His family could easily provide for her family and the ill wool merchant. He gives an uncertain sigh. He turns his head, and is suddenly aware that Erik has slipped through his sights. He darts his head around, but he is nowhere to be found.

Fear tightens his chest. He tries to brush aside this feeling of dread, but he swiftly begins to feel anxiety and now the exhiliration he had felt earlier is beginning to wear off. The townspeople all have a menacing look about them now, their looks of misery shifting into cold-hearted glances and distaste. And he had the odd impression they were all staring at him.

He slowly began to back away, searching for stumbles across a darker part of the street near an alley, and leans his head a little to the left, searching frantically. A hand catches his, and he flinches violently as an old woman looks up at him, from her position on the ground.

" 'andsome young man, yes?" she mutters. She is blind in one eye. Another woman approaches him, her breasts exposed.

"Would 'e like to partake, then?"

Charles shudders, shaking his head violently. "N-no, I-"

"No need to be shy, lad." A man mutters from behind him, his stomach protruding over his waist. "We all have our desires, and she isn't bad to play with. Is she?"

The girl laughs.

Charles, horror-struck backs away, stumbling past them, his breath faltering in his throat. He barely resists the urge to run, as he nearly trips his way back into the street now hopelssly lost.

...

Erik was getting more impatient with himself. When he had been at the merchant's he had been so engrossed with his plan, he'd nearly condemned himself before even getting the mission started. And the boy had...distracted him.

Erik for a moment, had come to the understanding just how easy it would be to kill the boy while they were already alone together. It would be quite simple, really. As he clutched the knife in his pocket, he thought how easy was to merely slip the cool metal into his back as they merged through the multitude of townsfolk. It would be so easy...

And yet...

There was something in him, that had held him back. There was something about the boy, that Erik no matter how hard he tried, couldn't see himself taking away. When Charles had reached for that old man, as if to help him, he could almost believe that he was just any other boy. He could almost admire the boy's kindness.

Charles had the qualities of an extremely innocent child. It was hard to consider that someone could be so unquestioning and trusting so hastily. The difference between the two was astonishing. Erik could never envision himself latching onto someone like that. But that's precisely what Charles did.

As they had walked between the throng, his knifepoint had been raised just so, but then he had been stopped. By his fucking smile. Again. He doesn't know what it is about that smile, that he finds so enticing, what it does to cause him to make pause.

_I have nothing to fear from you, Erik._

The complete and total faith he puts into him-he knows the boy has already begun to trust him with his life. In the past month or so that he has known him, it was becoming nearly impossible to imagine Charles ever becoming any thing like his father. Hard to believe Charles wouldn't shrink back in horror, if he _really _ had any clue about what his father had done. No, Charles he is too gentle for that sort of thing.

A creeping feeling of guilt crawls up the man's spine and he shakes it off furiously. It didn't matter. In any case, he was going to have to do it _some_day, probably shortly before his father's end, and it's not like after a couple of years in the monastery, Charles wouldn't turn out to be just as posioned as his father.

But-the way Charles had called him his friend, and seemed so concerned over whatever was troubling him...he could tell Charles really meant it. The faintest prick of what feels like sadness, clutches at Erik's heart. He shook his head again, listening dimly to the merchant's barter. He mustn't let such small things get in the way. Even if...he couldn't say all the talking the two had been doing was acting on his part.

He tells himself, that the idea of assassinating Charles right here is ridiculous anyway. Despite what the boy had said, suspicion was bound to rise sometime and then, of course, the servants would be the first investigated, and how would he ever get away with it, then? He is thinking with his heart not his head. His attempts at convincing himself that he hasn't begun to feel some affection for his...friend...aren't going well however and he frowns at himself. Well, perhaps if only for a little while, he can pretend this is real. If he just accepts it now, maybe he could-

And that's when he notices that Charles is no longer by his side. Or anywhere in his immediate vision.

"Shit!" he scowls, hurriedly paying the merchant. He storms through the crowd, eyes darting between the people. He shoved a few people aside, earning him some fuming looks that he ignored. "Stupid, stupid, boy." he muttered.

He finds Charles huddled against a wall, his face buried in his hands, wracked with appeared to be small sobs. Erik grabs him by the wrist, turning him so he can look into his face.

"_Did I not tell you to stay by my side?"_ he snarled heatedly. "And what have you gotten yourself into? Your-"

"Erik," Charles gasps, mouth parted in fear. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He bows, nearly groveling at his feet. He looks up at him, his blue eyes wide in pleading. Erik feels heat stir in him, and steps back from him as if burned.

His tone softens. "Come, Charles. Let us leave here." Charles takes his hand with no hesitation.

...

They are making their way back through the town square when they see it.

There is a large gathering of people tightly knit in a circle and as they push and shove their way through it to get to the other side, they happen to catch sight of the spectacle.

There are several people in the middle of the square, a haggard and thin-looking brown-haired boy who couldn't be that much younger than Charles, a blond boy who looked younger than that, his face furious and nearly cherry-red because of it.

"Give it, back ye bastards!" the blond boy shouted at the other two men in the center, both thick and dirty men who were holding a sack of jingling coins with apparent glee.

"Then have him come find it, then!" the smaller of the two bullies, laughed. "I'm sure 'e can get if for 'imself." The other man next to him gave a chuckle.

The brown haired boy stumbled slightly as he tried to make his way over to the men, but he tripped and fell, and Erik could see that he was blind. Disgust coiled in his stomach.

The blond boy raged at the man, his small fists raised, as he went on the attack, but he was much too small and the larger man nearly knocked him to the ground, leaving the boy clutching his face to uproarious laughter from the crowd.

"Come on now, it's only right here, lad. Can't you see it?" The other man snickered, holding out the coinbag a couple of feet from the blind boy's face. The boy made a wild grab for it, only for the man to lift it a couple of inches higher over his head.

"Aw, really now, lad, it's not so hard."

The crowd burst into laughter again, and Erik realizes his knuckles have whitened. He hears a sniffle near his side and turns to Charles, who he realizes has started to cry in earnest, the tears sliding shamelessly down his cheeks.

"How horrible. How horrible." the young master chokes out. "How can they sit here laughing like this?"

Erik grabs Charles by the shoulder, pulling him closer as he forces his way past the crowd. If this were any other day...if he were alone...he'd make sure the two fat men would suffer for this. But evening is approaching and to draw attention to himself while Charles is with him-would be foolish.

"Come, Charles. We must be going home now."

"But why does no one help him?" Charles raises his voice, his eyes liquid as they hear more jeering from the crowd that is becoming farther behind them.

Erik gives him a defeated sigh. "Because that is the way of the world, Charles."

...

The path back to the estate is covered in fallen bright red berries, from the numerous shrubs surrounding them, leaves crunching beneath their feet. There is a subdued silence between the two, before Erik gives a sudden grunt of realization.

"Damn. I nearly forgot to get something for the seamstress." he mutters, his gaze fixed on the small fruit, as he shifts the wool on his shoulder to the side. "Tell me, does she like pastries?"

Charles, snapped out of his reverie and looks at him, almost as if he had forgotten. "I believe so." he says distractedly, his eyes still red.

"Good." Erik replied to him, almost soothingly. "Over there are shrubs. They grow a fruit called currants. Go pick a handful of them, and then catch up with me."

Charles did as he was told, having to catch up with him shortly after, cupping the berries in his hands, offering them to him.

Erik took them from him, weighing them in his hands. "These are used to make jam mostly. I am sure they will be excellent in pie." He slips them into his bag. "Thank you for this, Charles. I will be certain to mention this to the seamstress when I see her."

This earns him a soft smile.

...

That night after Charles has snuck back into the house, he scrubs himself vigourously, hoping the place will not stink with suspicion. He had thought himself wise in the activities of men, but the depravity he has seen tonight...no matter how horrid it seemed, he would be forever grateful to his friend for showing him that.

And no matter how much he scrubs that night, he will go to sleep that night, still smelling of the town and sin.

...

a/n: 8/2/11 And there you have it! There first date! I mean..ahem..mutual understanding. I'm afraid they won't be getting it on until later on in the story. So sorry about that. And I have a particular order about how the chapter will be. For example, Cain absolutely has to make his appearance in chapter ten? Why? I HAVE NO FREAKING IDEA, BUT THAT'S WHAT HE'S TELLING ME TO DO. So , my Internet won't work on my computer because it's acting like a dumb ho. So I've been having to use my sister's computer and she's going to Texas for about a week or so, so I'll be gone for awhile I think. :( But, I will be working like crazy on this story while she's gone and hopefully I 'll be able to do some sort of bulk update by the time she gets back. Or my computer stops being an STD -catching whore. Whichever comes first.

NOTES ON THE TEXT:

Medieval times, paper money wan't invented yet, so they used metal coins. Copper, silver, gold etc. And servants didn;t get paid al ot of course. So I'm going with ten copper being sorta expensive for Erik since, copper is of the lowest quality anyway.

2. The ill merchant in this story had TB, known as consumption in this time period, and there was a great fear of the sickness as it was really contagious,

, about hygeine. Yeah, I'm sure a lot of people in Medieval times were completely filthy. Which a lot of them were, but some tried to keep up their teeth clean and stuff, which is why Charles is all like. "Ummm...ew?"

Grey cameo like boom!

and Scott cameo like ba-bam!

6. _"Refrain from anger and turn from wrath; do not fret-it only leads to evil."_

_Psalms 37: 8_

Please read and review, review, review.

Nehan Shinzui


	7. Reflect

That Which is Forbidden by Nehan Shinzui

a/n: 8/4/11 YOUR REVIEWS VALIDATE MY EXISTENCE! I love you guys. I really do. All your reviews mean so much, and all of you are just really sweet! Oh, btw. It turns out my sister isn't going to Texas, since the heat down there will have my grandma looking like the Witch of the West from Howl's Moving Castle when she tried going up all those stairs. So I am posting again! Oh, and tell me why the FUCK I go back and read my chapter, and I find that has eaten up some of my notes at the bottom? It was _supposed_ to say _Alex_ and Scott cameo like ba-bam and Jean Grey cameo like boom! *sigh* It's okay though. I'm just glad you guys got the point. Anywho, this is more of a filler chapter since I realized we haven't heard much from Raven's point of view. It may be a bit dull though, but I wanted to celebrate being able to post a bit quicker. Next chapter will be _way_ more interesting I hope.

Chapter Seven: Reflect

Raven often likes to pretend that she is invisible. It makes more sense to her that way.

She always seems to be dangling at the edge of a sharp corner, her imminent fall perilous and deafening. She doesn't know when she started to feel this way.

Maybe always.

...

Her father is like a shadow to her, constantly hear and there, but never truly visible. Time is often spent with her mother, who accepts her prescence with a grudging acceptance most of the time, but then at other times, her mother seems to hold onto her like an anchor. Raven likes those times more than anything. Even if her mother nearly obsesses with who she should start looking at to marry, the times her mother needs her to listen are cherished.

...

Mother loved Charles once she is sure of that.

Back when they were younger, she faintly recalls the way her mother would hold him, would whisper things into his ear, would cry over him.

But Father took that away from her. Charles was taken under his wing, nearly as soon as he could walk, she can remember her brother telling her. Raven doesn't know what life was like before she was born, but she had heard that there were nine children before Charles, and she was certain if it had been her, she wouldv'e loved her son to pieces.

Mother would've tried very hard to show how much she loved Charles, but eventually that wouldn't be enough, because then that would be taken from her as well.

Raven thinks that everything she had ever felt for her son, had been smothered and taken away as soon as her father had begun training him. Had been buried deep into some colder part of her that she never accessed anymore. All crumpled and used up. She thinks that's what's happened to everything these days. Sometimes she feels the same way.

...

Her father will never love her the way he does Charles. Even with her young mind, she has already come to accept that. She will never be as good as a boy, and now that Father has what he wants, why should he bother over her? It doesn't mean much to her-she enjoys the fact that she has more freedom right now than her brother will ever have, and she can't stand the thought of studying the way he does. No, instead she enjoys the thought of simply marrying someone rich and powerful, like her mother always wanted, and living the rest of her life with him, far away in some enchanted castle, with everything she wants in her grasp.

...

Father pays too much attention to Charles, and never enough to her, so he gives her whatever she wants. If she desires something, she merely has to give the faintest hint, and it will appear. Her brother gets next to nothing, but she has never once seen him unhappy, or at least, he has never shown himself to be unhappy. Just..very, very, tired. It is better though, than this overbearing indifference Father feels for her, and for awhile, she tried to act out, to do things that would turn his attention to her, but no one has ever raised a hand to her, and she gave up after awhile anyway.

...

Charles is weaker than her, and he is always so afraid all of the time. Father wants to break him down, rebuild him in his image, make something that will be praised and worshipped when he gets older, and in turn, Father will be revered even more for creating such a thing.

However much she tried, Raven can never resent her brother. He is too well-loved for her to do such a thing. After all, he has earned the acceptence of the lord of the house, who cares for him almost obsessively, who ensures his safety and his happiness. So she can never hate him.

No matter how much she wishes she did.

...

But she can be braver than him, can taunt him, can even be kind to him and give him sympathy.

She often does. He means so much to her. She idolizes him.

...

Except now, she notices, he seems to walk with some new confidence, as if suddenly he is wiser. As if he has gone and seen things. This unsettles her. She cannot bear the thought of him taking away all that she has over him from her. It would be so unfair. So she retreats into her own world.

...

She looks at the new servant the same day her brother does-with awe. She will marry him one day, she tells herself. They will run away and elope as soon as she is just a couple of years older, and start a new life in the countryside somewhere, with her brother far, far away somewhere, and her mother and father even further, and she and him all alone. They will have seven children, five of them boys for him, and two of them girls so she can have someone to talk to. And they will love her. And she always gets what she wants.

...

Her father came to her a couple of days ago, and she remembered it, because he had come home early, to retrieve something.

"Where is your brother?" he had asked her, and it had seemed such a strange question at the time, since Charles was mostly in one place.

She had replied that she did not know, probably walking on the grounds and her father had given her a look, almost as if he were disappointed. He'd gone to the chapel after that, and later, she'd seen Charles go in there too, just before dinner. Raven had half-expected him to come out bleeding or bruised, but at dinner, he had seemed perfectly fine, and her father appeared to have forgotten the question.

...

Yes, she thinks to herself, as she notices that Charles has been leaving his window open more and more. Charles is starting to show just the slightest bit of confidence, and she doesn't like where this is going at all.

...

a/n: So, this is isn't my best chapter. But it's just a filler to explain some of Raven's actions later. Next Chapter should be coming soon, and trust me, it will be a whole lot better. And I decided to toss some foreshadowing in there as far as Sebastian goes,. So, hold on my sister's rushing me! agh!


	8. Tutor

That Which is Forbidden by Nehan Shinzui

a/n: 8/7/11 I totally got bitch-slapped with writer's block for a moment there, because I had this super amazing dream the other day, which gave me the plot for an epic original story, so I was just brainstorming the heck out of that, but I had to stop and just write all of that down, before I got writer's block for this, and left it all neglected and abandoned and stuff. Your reviews really keep me grounded. And BTW, almost fifty reviews at only chapter _six? _ No words.

Chapter Eight: Tutor

After that day in the town, Charles found that he could look about himself almost with a greater confidence than he'd felt before. His success at escape notwithstanding, he now felt with reinforced urgency the need to go out and help people. He knew now, that whatever trials he may face, the goal of following in his father's footsteps, had never been more pronounced. Charles would ensure that people like Jean and the blind child, would never have to grow hungry again. There should be a law promising to assist people like that. And another thing. Charles gave a slight frown as he thought about this. All the bishops he'd heard of had seemed wealthy. Surely they could afford to donate?

...

The days grew colder and with it, Charles' fear of apprehension. At first, he'd nearly vomited at the thought of how soon it would take his father would start to suspect. The same night the two of them had returned and harried and worried, he had gone into the chapel and seen his father, who had only given him the faintest smile of acknowledgement. He had been certain that there had been something else hidden in that smile, but his father had not spoken a word to him, and he hadn't seen his father for nearly several weeks after that, save for meal times or prayer times. It was beginning to amaze him, how the two could be so far apart from each other in the same house. Raven came to visit him regularly of course, but there was something about her that seemed subdued. Whenever he would tell him of her his newfound plans, she would barely give him a glance and he felt the slightest tint of irritance. It worried him, and he would wonder if he was being selfish, and would prod her for information on what might be going on in her life.

...

He hadn't met with Erik after the incident, and already he could feel himself starting to miss the older man's company. The two of them seemed to take an almost wordless agreement, to not do anything that may arouse suspicion. He knew it was necessary...and yet. And yet...

...

After a while, he did see Erik again, as he was heading towards his quarters, and taken with a strange impulse, Charles had run towards him, chest heaving, when he stood in front of him. Erik had turned, giving him a confused glance, and there was a heavy silence, wherin Charles felt rather foolish, before he uttered an awkward 'hello'. The light laugh Erik gave him, warmed him to the core.

...

Of course, with the harvest finishing, and winter nearly arriving, there was the ever approaching dread of his cousin's immenint arrival, the house was beginning to get very busy, and he found himself increasingly lonely as Raven had to be called upon for hasty lessons in the court with her nanny. He was alone again.

...

When Sebastian approached him one day, as he was cleaning the rest of the vegetables from the garden in the courtyard, Erik was certain he had discovered them. One hand gripped the root he was holding so tightly in his hand his knuckles turned white, the other pushed himself up to face the man before him as he turned slowly to meet his eyes. He was trembling and the early morning sky was tinged a blood-red as the Rage consumed him. He barely mustered the self-control to address him. He felt no fear...only acceptance as the man assessed him coolly.

"Yes, Master Sebastian?" he muttered cautiously, the words coming out grating and forced. His hands tightened even more, his teeth grit, the tension slicing and humming through the air.

Sebastian looked at him for a moment longer. Then,

"How old are you, servant?"

The question baffled Erik and he had been a bit thrown. He sat with his mouth slightly agape for a moment, at a loss for words. He was almost surprised to feel what appeared to be _relief_ spread through his bones.

"You see, I am only asking, because I have a son, and he has been inquiring recently about other...boys of his age. Naturally, I cannot permit him to go out into the world and converse with...unsavory factors.(He gives what Erik can imagine is an almost knowing sideways glance at him, which fills him with a sudden apprehension.) The event will be too traumatising, I believe." He looks idly at his fingernails. "And you just happened to look like you fit the bill."

Erik finds his voice again. "I am just reaching twenty, your Grace." he said slowly.

"Excellent." Sebastian replied with a smile, that didn't fail to make his skin crawl. "And I take it you are illiterate?"

The servant nodded. _As far as he knows._ Erik thought privately, though if he were entirely honest with himself, he could barely manage a few words in text.

The bishop's smile grew. "Excellent. My son will begin seeing you this evening to start your lessons."

Erik hardly had time to give a choked reply.

...

"You will allow it?" Charles said, jaw dropping. "Why-I've hardly-"

"You will enjoy it." his father cut him off. "After all, were you not just hoping to get to know others of your age? I will make sure, he will not challenge you." Father moved about the chapel, with a glance of disinterest as Charles hurried in his footsteps. "Come quickly, Charles, I want you two to meet each other before supper is done."

They swept out into the courtyard air, which was sweet with the smell of the dessert Cook and his underservants were sure to be making right now. Privately, the boy's mouth watered before he turned to his father's retreating back.

"But Father...what if I am not ready?" Doubts had instantly begun to creep back up his spine.

"You are as ready as you will ever be." Sebastian told him with nary a glance back at him as he entered the servant's quarters.

Erik bolted up from where he had been resting on his cot, and met Charles' eyes.

For a moment the boy's heart stopped, and he looked away, before his father could notice the recognition.

Erik didn't look at him anymore, merely gave a slight bow to his father. "I thank you, your Grace, for showing me such a kindness. I will forever be grateful."

Though his gaze was connected to the ground, Charles could hear the stiff way the words were delivered.

"It is nothing." his father said. "After all, I am sure, my son would be pleased to do it. And youth needs it's company does it not?" He lifted Charles' chin with his finger, their eyes connecting and Charles felt heat and the barest hint of shame, creeping in his face. Not for the first time, he felt the urge to break down and confess, to deal with his punishment now.

Swallowing, he simply replied, "Yes, Father. That is very true."

Sebastian gave a satisfied smirk, before turning to the servant. "You will be taught to read, to write, and the scriptures. He will also teach you some arithmetic, but your main priority will be learning the value of honoring our Lord the way my son has." His tone lowered threatingly.

"My son is very precious to me. I trust that you will treat him the same."

Erik gave the barest hint of a nod.

"It is a very gracious thing I am doing for you, servant. Do not forget that." He gave him one final glare before reaching over to pat his son's shoulders. "Do not fret, Charles. Get to know him. And maybe someday soon, you will be ready to join in me at the monastery."

Charles' face lit up at that. He gave him a soft smile before turning around and leaving them alone.

There was one of those silences that often plagued them, before Erik broke it with a laugh.

"Ah, what a coincidence this is _Mausi._" he chuckled with a raised brow.

"I had...asked him to teach for a little while. I did not know he would say yes-I very much doubted it. And...I did not think it would be with you." Charles turned his head.

"And you look at you, ready to piss yourself in your own father's presence." Erik said, some of the joviality in his voice suddenly gone, and he reached a hand out to touch his face, his calloused hand brushing against smooth skin. The gesture was so intimate and filled him with such a feeling of unexpected-he wouldn't _dare_ to call it lust, no, no he would _not_-that Charles flinched violently, pulling out of the older man's grasp.

"I had thought that he had known. The way he had looked at me-I was almost certain." he replied hastily. "I was afraid he would-"

"Quiet now, my little mouse." Erik told him soothingly, with a calmness he did not truly feel as he had felt the same way-perhaps still felt in fact-just a brief moment ago. He towered over him, gripping his arms and settling him down. "I would not want the Master's _precious_ to get himself into a fever over nervousness."

Charles gave a nod, not noticing the faint glimmer in the man's eyes. "I suppose I am just anxious about this." he gave a small laugh, indicating the small room where he would be teaching. "About...getting to know each other." he added with a slight knowing smile in Erik's direction.

Erik leaned against the wall, with a smirk. "I am ready to start when you are."

...

a/n: Erik is one hell of a double agent. His acting is on point. Just wanted to pat myself on the back about that. Anyhow, I apologize if this seems random as hell, but this definietly happens in my original brainstorm. Hope you liked it!

NOTES ON THE TEXT:

1. Your Grace was a title given in England and other English-speaking countries to archbishops. Idk, if I'm doing this totally wrong, but maybe someone will explain this to me, when we get into Shaw's nefarious plan.(cuz you know he always has to have one on hand.)

people besides the wealthy were illiterate in these times.

3. Just wanted to say Shaw is not oblivious. In case, I didn't make that blatantly obvious.

Interesting stuff is coming soon, as well as a lot more UST, possibly next chapter, so stay tuned. And the reviews...how I love them so.

Nehan Shinzui


	9. Learning

That Which is Forbidden by Nehan Shinzui

a/n: 8/16/11 So, My computer is working again, FINALLY got this fixed! Sorry for the long wait you guys! In the mean time, I'd done a little bit of research(not very fruitful research btw) on my phone and with my dad's computer. I'll try to get the next chapter out in quick succession, but the bitch known as REAL LIFE may get in the way, as I have some summer homework that I've been putting off. But I'm tryna build up a shedule. Anyway though-I present to you Chapter Nine-or-the Chapter In Which There Is Sexual Tension.

Chapter Nine: Learning

Winter arrived, and with it, Erik's lessons. Charles was a little bit surprised to find that despite Erik's seeming disdain he was very proficient in when it came to studies. He approached the subject in a brisk, frank way that helped Charles. Though he was embarassed to admit it, even with his years of _living_ the subject, he was finding it incredibly hard to try and relay this message. Erik's straightforward behavior seemed to snap him into shape.

"Don't be ridiculous," Erik would scold him, his steely eyes glinting, "you're an excellent teacher." Charles would flush, at his praise. So far, Erik's strengths appeared to be adding and mathematics, which in a way fitted his calulating nature. However, he was having persisitent trouble in reading. Charles tried to be patient, but he was beginning to be frustrated at himself. Despite the older man's reassurences, he was constantly reminded of his own ineffeciency. Not only that, but Erik's presence in itself was distracting and flustering. The way he watched his every moment and listened so attentively, had him colored a light pink with each meeting. Often, it was hard to think, and Charles would have trouble meeting the man's eyes, fumbling over his words and papers. But he looked forward to it with a fervency he couldn't place or that he'd ever felt before.

...

Raven gave him a face as he hurried through the kitchens, grabbing an apple from the bowl, as he hefted his material underneath his arm, giving her an eager smile as he made his way out. It was a small gesture, but Raven knew that until recently, he wouldn't have thought to do without asking, his fear/respect for Cook to great for him to even think of swiping from the kitchen. She opened her mouth as if to say something in reprimand, but Charles was already out the door, his lips quriked up as he tossed over his shoulder, "Tell him, I apologize but it's just...Erik said he really likes these things."

"You really shouldn't-" she barely got out, but he'd already left.

Raven puffed out a small sigh, blowing her hair our of her face, which promptly plopped down in front of her eyes. The two of them had been occupied each other's time almost exclusively ever since the teaching started, sometimes even when she suspected he wasn't recieving lessons. She hadn't even seen Erik since the harvest was over and he no longer needed to work in the fields.

She dipped a hand into the bowl Charles had gotten the apple from, blowing on a berry absentmindedly. Since when had she become the one to worry so much about rules.

"That's all stupid Charles' gift." she muttered sourly, the berry tasting more bitter than she would've liked. Her voice echoed in the large kitchen, sunlight shining through the large window, the dust motes swirling. And that's when she realized how alone she was in that particular moment. Father was away again, and though Mother was here she may as well have been withhim. Normally, Raven could count on having her brother to talk to, who would listen to her, his attention entirely focused on her. The thought that he would rather be with the other man(taking the servant's attentions away from her even!) angered her, and in her frustration, tears pricked at her eyes, which she violently wiped away. She couldn't recall the last time they'd sat and talked about things. Her brother was growing up now. Charles was ignoring her.

...

Erik gave him a perturbed look. Charles had set before him an odd board filled with small carved figures of black and white, and was looking at him with some barely contained excitement, as he laid his hand over them. He seemed to be waiting for some type of reaction.

"Um, what is this, _Mausi?"_ he asked curiously. Charles gave him a put-upon sigh as if he were dissapointed.

"Why, it's _chess_ of course!" he said, his voice slightly perking up. "It's one of my favorite games. I usually only play with my father."

Erik frowned a bit. "What exactly does this have to do with our lessons, Charles?"

Charles flushed a bit."Well, it's a thinking game you see. I figured you were having a bit of trouble in certain areas, that this would help you think better."

Erik gave him a disbelieving look, as if he thought the idea that a game helping him was absurd.

Charles' ears reddened. "It always clears my thoughts. It's how I learned how to focus better."

The servant still seemed as if he didn't quite understand, but he gave a conciliatory nod. This made the younger beam, and Erik felt that odd warmth course through him again, forcing it off with a shrug.

"Excellent! Now, do see the pieces?" Erik nodded. "The small ones are the pawns. Those can only move forward to an occuppied square. It can't move forward, but if it hadn't moved before it can go forward two times. That one over there is the bishop and he can move anywhere diagonally. The rook over there moves anywhere vertically or horizontally. The king can move one square horizontally, vertically, or diagnolly. Sometimes it's also able to make a move called a castling. The knight moves two squares horizontally then one square vertically or vice verse. The queen can move any number of squares in any direction." He paused. "Do you understand so far, Erik?"

"Fairly." Erik said boredly.

"Good." Charles responded slightly uneasily. "The object of the game is to get a checkmate, which is capturing the queen."

Charles went over the rules a bit longer, before he decided that they would begin the game. Erik proved to be exellent competiton. He took to the game rather quickly, and after their third or fourth game, Erik beat him continuosly, as if he had been playing the game his whole life.

...

Raven was waiting in his room one night. Pressing a palm to his face, Charles let out an apologetic sigh, recalling how he had told her that he'd meet her earlier on today.

"I'm sorry, Raven." he told her, sinking into the chair next to his bed, where she reclined. He laid his tired head into his hand, stifling a yawn. "Erik and I ended up talking for awhile." He let a grin spread across his face."It's so different, having someone your age to talk to. And he's so _interesting_, Raven. It's not that he necessarily tells me an awful lot about himself, but still, I get the feeling he's been nearly _everywhere._"

"You're not supposed to be out that late." Raven said sharply, her tone biting. She'd been sitting silently, but she was tired of hearing about the two of them with each other, and the glee she saw in her brother's face was starting to annoy her. She threw her head back against the bed, her curly locks splaying around her.

Charles gave her a dubious glance. "Since when did you care so much about rules? Weren't you the first to talk to him?" He gave a small, teasing smile."'Why don't you just talk to him, Charles?' Isn't that what you told me?"

Raven gave him a withering glare. Charles recoiled as if stung. "I'm sorry. But don't you think this is fascinating? I mean-"

"Yes, yes, Erik is just the most thrilling, _exhilirating, fascinating, exiting man that ever existed._" she cut him off impatiently. "Honestly, Charles he's only a servant." she rolled her eyes, her barely restrained thoughts of the man, pushed to the back of her mind.

"But he isn't just a servant, Raven. He's...the first friend I've had." Charles protested. "Can't you see that?"

Raven stood up violently, her body rigid. "And I suppose I'm nothing then?"

"It's not like that at all, Raven your my sister!" he replied exasperatedly. "Please, calm down...I don't like arguing."

"No need." she snarled, storming past him.

"What's gotten into you?" Charles asked, his face confused.

"I could ask you the same question." Raven tossed over her shoulder, leaving him alone in the deafening silence.

...

They were playing yet another round of chess, the game having become a staple in their lessons. Erik's mind was increasingly sharp, and he could add quicker than Charles now, and his reading level was escalated. It had been unchararacteristically silent the whole time when Erik suddenly broke the quiet.

"What troubles you today, _kleine Maus?" _he queried, making his move on the board, capturing his knight. "You appear distracted."

Charles looked up at him, his eyes wide. "Nothing," he replied brushing it off, but Erik saw the bruise on his lip before he'd ducked his head again once more.

"I assume that was your father scolding you?" Erik's tone held a bitter note.

"It was my own fault." Charles conceded. "I'd made a mistake when I was reading John."

Erik's response was sharp. "That's hardly-" he began hotly, but Charles cut across him.

"Raven's been acting strange lately." he contemplated his next move eyeing his postions fixedly. "She seems angry recently. I don't know what's gotten into her. It's as if she-" he paused when he felt Erik's hand on his wrist.

His head sprang up, heat crossing his face. Erik was staring at him intensely, and Charles swallowed nervously.

"Pardon me, if I'm mistaken, but I wouldn't dare to make that move if I were you, Charles." he said finally, indicating where Charles was preparing to leave himself wide open for capture.

The boy was nealry cherry-red now. "Right. Of course." he said, throat dry. Erik's hand removed from his wrist, but he still felt the heat from his calloused hands long after they finished the game.

...

"Why is it that you wanted so badly to teach me?" Erik asks him one day when snow has frosted the ground, and left Charles shivering in the servant's quarters.

Charles looked surprised at the question."What do you mean?"

Erik released a slow breath. "After all, as your sister said, I'm just a commoner. What would you gain from assoiating yourself with me?"

Charles doesn't meet his eyes. "Because you are different." he tells him quietly. He turns to face him."And because I believe you are important to me."

Erik will never understand the rich.

...

Charles wandered the halls, clutching his clothes about him against the chill. He was supposed to be in his rooms but the thought of meeting his sister's disadainful glare as he went past, disconcerted him. He felt lonely and a bit childish, but he consoled himself with thoughts of his friend. They'd hardly went over anything today, merely talked about things.

Turning down a particular corridor, Charles made his way to the smal bathouse. He was sorer than usual, and he thought that feeling the heated water from the bath would do him some good.

When he went inside however, saw that Erik was already in there. And that Erik was now staring at him. And that Erik was naked. Completely, wholey, amazingly _naked._ Charles' heart felt as though it were lodged in his throat.

Erik had been in the process of rinsing his hair out with the bucket if water sitting beside him. The water dripped down his face, spreading throughout his chest, his whole body dripping.

There was a thick silence, before Erik let out a short bark of laughter. "You are all very fortunate to have your water heated and waiting for you like this, little mouse. I cannot recall a time, when I found a bath so refreshing."

Charles is utterly speechless. Erik moves just slightly from where he is crouching, and then he sees-he sees _it_, long and thick and dripping, and already Charles feels saliva begin to pool in his mouth.

He jerks his head to the side, willing his eyes to close, but they seem determined to stay wide.

Erik gives off another sharp laugh. "Are you still so shy, Charles? You blush like a timid virgin."

"I...I have not...thought much of our bath." he struggles with the words, his voice hoarse. His breath hitches in his throat, forcing his mind elsewhere, anywhere, but the wet man before him.

_And behold, a certain lawyer stood up, and tempted him, saying, Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?_

_He said unto him, What is written in the law? how readest thou?_

But now, Erik is standing up, is approaching him, his golden skin glistening in the firelight, _it _bobbing around, swinging from him, the water dripping past his stomach muscles, sliding through the crevasses of his body.

_...And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him, and passed on the other side. _

_But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him, And went onto him, and bound up his wounds..._

Charles' breathing was increasingly labored, his thoughts scattered. And then Erik was directly in front of him, a smirk gracing his face. Leaning into him, there bodies nearly touching, Erik whispered into his ear:

_"Wie die kleine Maus, einem verangstigten Hasen gleich, zittert."_

Heat had pooled in Charles' loins for the second time in his life, his pants tightening, and he let loose a shameful whimper.

Erik chuckled, reaching behind him and grabbed a towel, from the small niche in the wall.

"So very shy, Charles." he said over his shoulder. "Like a little maiden." He left him to himself, Charles' breath still heaving, to the baths. Thankfully, the water had cooled.

...

The next morning, he was woken up, his sheets sticking to him, his body hotter than it normally was, by Raven who stood over him with an amused look in her face. Frantically, he pulled the covers tighter over himself, sure that she could see, but she appeared not to notice any of that, and she broke into a smile.

"What is it?" Charles asked blearily, face still flushed.

Raven's smile grew. "Cain has arrived."

...

a/n: 8/18/11 BAM! I hope you guy's liked it. Hopefully, this was interesting, and it sorta helped me get over my writer's block. Cain's here finally, WOOT WOOT. I'm sorry guys, I ain't that good at sensual really. Also, today is my sister's birthday. I've got some boring ass homework to do as well. Urgh. And it's hot as HELL over here, and I just don't wanna do it. But I have to. *sigh* I can't believe summer's almost over dammit! I DON'T WANNA GO BACK TO SCHOOL I HATE THAT PLACE. *pouts* Plus, let me tell you how Stressfull getting my comp fixed is. First of all, it was just sitting at my dad's house for the longest so I couldn't really write anything, so I ended up getting writer's block. Then I have to go over to my dad's and then have to listen to him bitch and moan and verbally abuse me over irrelevant shit, getting all overly mad at me because I can't fit fucking track into my schedule-which somehow certifies me having to live with my mom for the rest of my life-not that I wanted to take track anyway. And him just overall, randomly staring to act like a weirdo all weekend. ANYWAY.

NOTES ON THE TEXT:

1. Chess has been around for a very, very long time. Also, I don't know how to play it haha

2. Most wealthy families were the only ones able to afford someone to heat their baths in the winter, while poor families had to live with being dirty. Sad, huh.

3. Er, _Luke 25-33? The Story Of the Good Samaritan_

4._"Wie die kleine Maus, einem verangstigten Hasen gleich, zittert."_

_"How the little mouse trembles like a frightened rabbit."_

Nehan Shinzui


	10. Cain

That Which is Forbidden by Nehan Shinzui

a/n: 8/19/11 Hello, lovely people! Reviews are like powerful! They're the most powerful thing out there in this fanfiction world. And I am a whore for them. I've had the idea for Cain running around in my head for awhile now, and I'm pleased to say, I like how he comes out in the end...Not that's he's a good guy but...ANYWAYS.

Chapter Ten: Cain

Cain was born in the summer four years before Charles' birth, the son of Sebastian's brother and the late deacon Kurt Marko. In appearence, Cain was his younger cousin in a shattered mirror, larger, brawnier, with an overbearing countence and a cruel-faced demeanor. Where Charles' eyes were reminiscent of cool pools of water, Cain's brought about the thought of sharp ice. He was hard where his cousin was soft, and was conditioned to be so. While Sebastian's method of rearing had been isolation, Kurt's had been discipline and it was through this method, that Cain had acquired the ability to see demons.

...

_His father nudged him forward, so that he was closer, nearly crashing into his uncle's midriff. His cousin Charles cowered behind his father, the corner of his face just barley visible. Uncle reached over and patted him on his shoulder, nudging the boy towards Cain, who barely restrained pulling back._

_"He is your cousin, Charles." he heard his uncle say in reassurance. "You are important to each other."_

_Cain watched his cousin fumble over his words for a moment, before he made a small introduction of himself. He gave an uncertain look at his father, who gave him a cold glance in response, as if daring him to challenge the boy's demeanor. Cain gave a small bow, in the smaller boy's direction and that seemed to please both of the adults present and so he offered his cousin a small smile which he reciprocated warmly._

_..._

His mother and the twin that had come with him had both died during his birth. His father took this as a sign that there were demons within the house that sought to possess him, and it had taken the intervention of Sebastian to prevent him from killing him. He said that with discipline and perserverance his son could be saved, and that the Lord would reward him for his efforts, would bless his whole family for accomplishing such a feat in fact!

And so his life was spared, and he was named after the first murderer, as a reminder.

...

_They have told him his cousin is supposed to be special, "touched" somehow, that he will be someone important someday. Cain wishes he could see for himself, be near this entity more often, but his father is against it, and after that first meeting, hides Charles away as if he is afraid if him corrupting him. And yet, Charles has no such qualms. He will talk to him when they are able to be alone and his words are always kind._

_For a moment, Cain is as fooled as the other's are in thinking that Charles is something pure, something to be revered instead of reviled._

_..._

Cain believes that God had chosen him specifically for these trials, because of the manner of his birth. Surely, it is _him_ that is destined to lead the people out of the fog, that is _him_, and not his cousin, who will become the leader that the good Christians. Why else would the Lord give him such trials?

...

_He likes to chase him because he is a coward, and his father has taught him that cowards are worthless in the face of God. He does it in part also, because he is angry, and because he knows that Charles will abandon him as well anyway, and that eventually, his kindness will turn into revulsion. He doesn't understand why this has not happened sooner, but he expects that with his cousin's growing terror is his submission. It all means the same to him._

_The marks on himself are reflected on Charles' skin._

_..._

_One day after Charles is laying on the ground, giving off the slightest whimper, when Cain bends over, clutching his side. He inwardly curses himself, overexerting himself has opened his wounds again._

_He lowers to his knees, the punishment from the last time he harmed the boy in front of him, refreshed. Charles looks up at him, and then astonishingly he approaches him. Cain draws back as if stung._

_"What's wrong with you?" he snaps. _

_But Charles reaches his hand out tentatively to touch his side, his fingers fisting the rough cloth._

_"Are you...alright?" he asks hesitatingly._

_And that's when Cain realizes that the rest of them are wrong, and that Charles must in fact be a demon sent to test him._

_Because that is when Cain first feels the Thirst._

_..._

Surely, he is being tested. But he can survive this. He will do what is required of him. He will free them from their blindness, he will show them. He will reveal the demon for what he really is. Because it is _he _that is wrong not him.

He has been away for ahwhile and surely that is enough to have purged his body of this...this..._abomination._ He will not question His will, but surely this must be the most vile of all sins.

...

_He scrubs the filth from his sheets until his palms bleed. He will punish him for this. He will make him suffer for it._

_..._

_Charles recoils from him in horror now, and he thinks that finally he has accomplished something. _

_His cousin's condescending kindne cannot be forgiven. He mocks him._

_..._

When Cain enters the the estate he is greeted warmly by the family and he smiles, certain the time away has purged him. But that is when he looks up at the balcony and sees _him._

Charles, with his red lips and pale skin.

He offers him an awkward smile, one that shows the barest hint of fear that is quickly masked.

But in God's plan he had made the Devil much stronger than a man, and Charles looks harried, his hair mussed, and his lips are parted slightly and he is...

And Cain will have to...he will have to make penane for this because the Thirst has returned stronger than before. He had thought himself relieved of it with the heathen whore before but this is...

_Charles has been the only person who has shown him any type of forgiveness. And that's why..._

He gives him a soft smile as he looks back up at him, offering the slightest wave before he enters the house, and the demon is hidden from view.

_He fucking _hates _cousin._

_..._

_"Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the _**flesh is weak.**"

...

a/n: 8/20/11 This chapter was incredibly hard to write for some reason, even though it's been floating around in my head for weeks now. We can finally start getting into interesting stuff now, I hope. There will be interactions between the two. I tried to sorta be subtle but I think I failed epically. So sorry, this chapter is so short and kinda lame. Apologizes. Also, I'll prolly update my other story sometime soon as well. Hope you liked! Ugh, I feel like such a boring author...

NOTES ON THE TEXT:

1. Matthew 26:41 ESV

Nehan Shinzui


	11. Sin

That Which is Forbidden by Nehan Shinzui

a/n: 8/25/11 Ok, so this should be a sort of long chapter to make up for the little mini-thing I had last chap. I went to the Art Institute of Orange County yesterday, and it was so amazing! The guidance counselor there, Jimmy, was super awesome and I was thinking about going to some boring ass college where you had to do all this other crap, but this school has everything I need! So I have to finish this application essay by Friday. Forever grateful to my friend Jazz for shouting me out. So, my prospects are looking up as of right now. EEEEeeeeehh. And I also found a new show I can eagerly anticpate this year: season two of Boardwalk Empire, and I'm sooo obsessed with Richard Harrow right now, you have no idea WHAT IS AIR? So, with me having to finish my summer homework and this application and having to finish summer reading and school coming up in a couple weeks, my updates may get sketchy. Sorry about that. Onwards!

Chapter Eleven: Sin

It had recently become apparent to Charles that what he was feeling was indeed lust. The thought made him ill with disgust and revulsion in himself. The sin of lust was a condemning one, let alone the thought of sodomy. He _would_ have to ruin his friendship by thinking of such repulsive things wouldn't he? The dream he'd had that night...he'd...he'd wanted him to-and the next morning he had awoken to see that he'd indulged in nocturnal emissions, with Raven standing over him, and Cain arriving no less! Charles had been almost too nervous to even leave from his bed, but eventually he had gathered the strength to rise from his bed and pull himself together, just in time to see his cousin enter the house. The older man had looked at him with what seemed an almost knowing smile, and he'd felt the crush of embarrassment envelope him. It felt as if everyone was going to know sooner or later.

...

Charles was, of course, to some degree terribly afraid of his father, but never before had he actually been afraid to tell his father of any blasphemous thoughts he was having, whether they garnered punishment or not. No matter how much he dreaded confessing sometimes (or asking permission for things), he always buckled in the end. It was part of the reason he had been so anxious after his excursion with Erik-a part of him knew that eventually he would succumb to his own guilt.

But this time, he simply could not bring himself to tell his father what he was feeling-the unavoidable punishment notwithstanding, Charles knew that the worst part would be the conclusion his father would most certainly come to.

And he couldn't bear the thought of seeing his friend forced to leave.

...

Cain was noticeably absent from dinner that night, so Charles was allowed to remain in his room with his thoughts. As he looked out the window, his gaze fixed worriedly in the direction of the servant's quarters, he silently prayed for strength.

...

He told Erik that since his cousin was over, that maybe they needed a short break anyway, and in any case, Cain was a guest, and had to be accommodated for awhile. Erik had given him a strange look as if he knew what was going on, but had been surprisingly nonchalant about it. Charles felt himself indulge in the slightest bit of disappointment that his friend hadn't at least protested. But he buried that thought quickly.

As it was, he and his cousin hadn't actually spoken to each other since his arrival, as Cain had been with his father the whole time, and they'd been talking and discussing things, always out of earshot of the other members of the house with his mother accompanying them.

So it was fair to say that Charles was more than a little surprised when Cain approached him one evening with a broad smile across his face that did not meet his eyes.

Instantly, Charles had the feeling of being backed into a corner, just ripe for throttling. He backed into a wall, letting loose a small noise of fear, before recalling himself.

Cain gave the slightest chuckle. "Do you always flinch from everyone you see, dear cousin?"

Charles' eyes darted down the open corridor they were in now, and pulled himself from the cold walls.

"If I see anyone." he replied lamely.

Cain laughed once more. "I have been waiting to see you, dear cousin. Why do you hide while I can barely pry your sister from my side?" His voice suddenly lowered conspiratorially. "Do I frighten you, cousin?"

Charles blushed, and lowered his eyes, seeing Cain's eyes widen.

"Why, no...of...of course not."

Cain seemed to be grinning alot lately. "Well, I must admit, we didn't leave each other on the most...cordial terms, did we, Charles?" He leans over him, and his presence is overbearing.

"I...am going to chapel now, Cain. We must talk about this later." Charles mumbled.

His cousin simply stared at him for a moment, his eyes utterly expressionless. There had always been something unnerving about Cain's eyes, as if there was a wealth of the most unpleasant of stories simmering beneath the surface. There was never as much as a flicker of life in his cousin's grey-blue eyes, he had learned to tuck away most of his emotions long ago. But still, there was always the fear that something was just about to erupt if pressed. Charles felt it now, and he found the stength to move away from his cousin's calculating gestures.

"Hold on just a bit though." Cain suddenly grabbed his wrist, locking it in his iron-like grip, and reaching for something in his pockets.

Charles flinched again, looking down at where they were linked now.

"I've brought something for you." the man explained, handing him a small pouch.

Charles gave him a look before opening it, and seeing two yellowish fruits inside.

"I got them from Portugal." Cain said slowly. "They are called carambola. I do hope you enjoy them. I remember that you always liked succulent fruits as a child-I'd hope that you would like something new as well." His tone had quieted.

Instantly Charles felt his face color again, this time in shame. To think that Cain would recall such a small detail from such a long time ago, while he did nothing but cower in fear, made him sick with guilt. Clearly his cousin had sincerely changed. Ashamed of himself, and wanting to make amends, Charles asked him,

"Will you be going to chapel with me this evening, Cain?" he offered a shy smile.

Cain froze for the briefest moment, and once again Charles felt dread pool in his stomach, before he aggressively pushed it down.

"No, Charles...I..can't with...no, not tonight my dear cousin."

Charles' nose wrinkled a bit in confusion. If he recalled correctly, his cousin would never miss a day when they were younger. He clutched the bag of fruit to his chest.

"I will see you tonight, then." he offered his cousin the slightest smile as he turned. "And thank you for this. It was very thoughtful."

"Are you sure that would be wise?" Cain's voice had an odd tint to it now-his voice was just barely higher, as if in rising anxiety, trembling just the slightest bit.

"How do you mean?" Charles shot him a curious glance.

"Your father...he does not like it when we are alone."

"We are cousins, Cain. He would not be bothered. I have never found him uncomfortable with us being together."

His cousin's face had seemed frozen with a look of emerging panic; he now slipped back into his usual unreadable expression. "Of course not, my dear cousin. Please excuse me." He abruptly turned from him, his robes billowing in the sharp, winter breeze.

Charles watched his retreating back, his face utterly perplexed.

...

Erik frowned at himself, his reflection menacing in the glassy ice. It really wasn't as though he'd never had this feeling before. The thought of lust for a man was not s foreign concept to him, he'd even undulged in it before of course. But the fact that it was a lust for _this _particular boy was obviously problemtatic. If it had been anyone else he certainly would've taken care of the issue already; he could tell that if Charles hadn't been quite so shy he would've admitted it to himself long before-lord knows, the boy wasn't exactly subtle in his affections no matter if he understood what he was feeling or not. However, Erik knew that he could not permit himself to feel this way for someone who had been spawned from _him._ But his lust was increasingly becoming more distracting, as it was coupled with the fact that he was actually growing quite fond of him, not only because of his attraction, but because of him as a person as well. He understood that if he didn't get over this issue by the time the summer came, certain troubles could arise. Troubles that could not be allowed to occur. When Charles had told him that they should take a brief break in their studies because of the arrival of his cousin, Erik had silently sighed in relief. Perhaps after all, it was only their closeness to each other that was the problem. But so far, he had remained plagued with thoughts of him, and what the boy's skin must feel like when he was unclothed, and if the rest of his body blushed just as red as his face when touched.

Quietly, he was grateful that what he was feeling was merely something that could be dealt with with his hand, and not something far more troublesome.

...

Cain settled into his rooms, back staightened rigidly as he watched the candlelight flicker within the chapel where he knew his cousin was residing. He had recalled his father again. And now he forsook hin once more, the burning in him stronger. His cousin had approached him under the pretense of speaking with him. Alone. And how quickly his thoughts had drifted at that statement! It made him nearly ill at the thought. Cain did not know how long his cousin planned on being out there, but he had been able to guess that there was something deeply troubling him. Shrugging it off, he now occupied with the needed task at hand. Slipping out of his shirt and bracing himself against the cold, he reached beneath his bed and pulled out his only companion within the room. As he observed the thin rod, the scars on his back were tinted an ominous color in the moonlight.

_Then the Lord rained upon _

_Sodom and upon Gomorrah brimstone_

_and fire from the Lord out of heaven;_

_And he overthrew those cities,_

_and all the plain, and all the inhabitants of the cities, and that which grew upon_

_the ground._

_..._

_Hail Mary,_

_full of grace,_

_the Lord is with thee._

_Blessed art thou among women,_

_and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus._

_Holy Mary,_

_Mother of God,_

_pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death._

_Amen._

Charles knelt before Mary, his hands clasped tightly. Looking up again, he gave the smallest of bows. Suddenly, he felt the slightest prick of tears at the corner of his eyes. It seemed so far that everything he was trying to change about himself was failing. He'd tried to make his father listen to him all the way for once and had instead been beaten for it. He had attempted to make a new friend, and now his sister was furious at him for a moment. And for a while, he had tried to make his new friendship work but..._this_ had come between him. He was so confused. He'd never felt anything even close to this-had never even had the slightest hint of lust concerning any of the female servants around his home. He'd thought that was a blessing, but now he was afraid that that was really the sign of something terribly wrong. Clutching his heart, Charles whispered another prayer for forgiveness for not confiding in his father. He'd seen him several times that day and had said nothing to him about what he was feeling and for that he was ashamed. Even more ashamed because now he knew he likely would not tell him. He asked for forgiveness from his friend for having such lecherous thoughts about him. He prayed for forgiveness for being rude to his cousin. And he prayed for strength so that he could face whatever trials he would face ahead.

a/n: Ok, so I just wanted to say that the next couple of chapters will be mostly plot-based which means we will be seeing some of Shaw and his bastardy as far as wanting to be the pope goes, and some of his reasons for having Charles so completely under his thumb like that. And Cain! And Raven being weird about Erik! And Cherikness. Oh, and for the people wondering when they'll be getting it in. Um, so it's winter right now, and they won't be bumping n grinding till spring. Early spring? eh, that's the teens in chapters. Sorry about that. I just have to get all this stupid plot and character development out the way. Ugh. BUT ANYWAY. I just wanted to rant to you about my lover **LoveFueledHate** who friggin' filled a prompt for me!

It's got Charles dancing in leaves. CHARLES DANCING IN LEAVES, PEOPLE. It's got Chogan. It's got protective Scott. It's got possessive Logan. POSSESSIVE 'DID YOU BRING HIM HERE?' LOGAN. It's got Charles getting drunk and flirting with people. IT'S. GOT. POSSESSIVE. LOGAN. *punches hole in the wall* It has what appears to be potential for totally rough sex. WITH POSSESSIVE LOGAN. It;s got some competition for Charles between two sexy ass bitches.

DID I TELL YOU SHE FILLED MY PROMPT WITH POSSESSIVE LOGAN IN IT?

**And that I'm currently in having her babies who will also be related to Charles and Shaw?**

My freaking GAWD PEOPLE.

NOTES ON THE TEXT:

1. Genesis 19:24-26 I think.

2. I'm pretty sure this is the Hail Mary.

, I'm trying to subtley make hints about where Cain might be mentally as far as his father goes and how he's doing now, but that will be expounded on later.

, after doing some more research on the Romani/Gypsies I have discovered that they took on the religion of wherever they were living so I'm even more confused as to why religious people were such assholes to them. I'm guessing most likely cuz they were rascist. Anyway, I'm thinking Erik might be Wiccan as well, but I really have no idea, I don't feel like expanding on that idea right now as it's late and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna start needing glasses soon. NOOOOO. So I'm going to be resting my eyes a little more by staying away from this computer. And trying to force myself to stop stalking people on the internetz.

5. Carambola is also known as starfruit. I was reading an alphabet book about fruits and vegetables and this idea suddenly came to me. -_-

Nehan Shinzui


	12. Prince

That Which is Forbidden by Nehan Shinzui

a/n: 9/1/11 Wow, I feel like I've been writing this for awhile now. Eh. Thank you guys so much for all the reviews and stuff, and please continue doing so! I have school on Tuesday, so I'm tryna update all my stories at least once before crunch time begins. *shudder* That equals a hell of a lot of work between now and then, so...*cringes* I fucking hate school. By the way, like I said last chapter, this is where the story gets really plot-based. So, if you're still sticking around, I hope you don't get too bored. :) If you do...*bursts into tears*

Chapter Twelve: Prince

Raven leaned out of the window, her long curly hair, hanging slightly in front of her face as she watched the servant make his way through the thick snow, leaving tracks in his wake. He looked up at her perch abruptly, and she hastily ducked her body down, wrenching herself from the windowsill, her back sliding against the wall, her heart racing. She blushed.

She shook her head agressively. Charles was the shy one, not her! She inwardly scolded herself. Lately she had noticed that Charles had been taking a brief reprieve in their lessons, and that he seemed much more withdrawn than usual. Vaguely she wondered if it had something to do with Cain. She had been rather young when Cain had left for studies abroad-perhaps the two had not necessarily gotten along in their younger years. She had been thrilled however-any visitor was fascinating to her, and Cain proved to be all kinds of fascinating. It was growing apparent that he was already getting bored of her though.

The girl flounced from the room, wrapping her cloak tighter around her as she mad her way through the corriders of their estate. She shivered slightly, when she suddenly heard voices down the hall. Instantly curious, she tiptoed in the direction of the sounds.

Peeking her head slightly around the corner, she saw in the flickering candlelight her mother, seated near the fireplace, her fingers steepled underneath her chin;her father sitting not too far across from her; and her cousin, standing near the corner, his face partially hidden in shadow. She knew this must be a conversation she shouldn't be listening in on, yet curiosity instantly gripped her.

"He is nearly of age now. He should've been at the monastary long ago. It would've seemed less suspicious if you'd-"

"I could have him placed anywhere anytime I want." her father cut Emmaline off with an offhand gesture. "It is merely the question of getting those who might challenge him out of the way. William is the one that is causing me the problems right now. No matter. He will be out of the way soon enough." He gave a jerky nod, in Cain's general direction.

Raven quietly deduced they had been talking about her brother, but who was William? And why was he in the way?

"And what about the other one that challenges you?" Mother asked sharply, her eyes steely in the firelight. "Wosley is already talking of corruption, I hear."

Father gave a quiet scoff, his temple resting on one of his fingers.

Raven itched to hear more of this fascinating conversation, but that was when Cain suddenly moved forward and she flinched, her nerve leaving her as she darted down the corridor until she reached outside.

Her thoughts raced for a moment, before she pushed them to the back of her mind, and set about the task that she'd been originally set out to do.

It wasn't like it was really any of her business was it? Her father knew best.

...

Raven found the servant somewhere closer to the wood than she normally would've went, but she decided not to think too much of it. He was facing away from her, and she took the time to simply admire him for awhile. Ever since Charles had begun giving him lessons, she hadn't spoken to him nearly as much as she had when he'd first arrived. The girl burned with jealousy, a jealousy she would never dare to admit aloud.

He would be her prince. She was smiling whimsically at the thought. By now, she was beginning to entertain fantasies that he would somehow take her out of this place-take her far away. He was so handsome-just like one of the strong princes in the stories her mother used to bother to read to her when she was younger. She liked to think that maybe he was a lost prince in disguise who had lost his memory somehow and needed to be reminded. Maybe he was on the run from dangerous assassins. It didn't matter which fantasy she chose to apply to him.

He would save her.

"Servant!" she called excitedly.

Erik turned his head sharply in her direction, a frown creasing his face. "Your brother likes to all me by my name." he said disinterestedly.

Raven's cheeks burned a bright red for a moment. "My apologies." she replied, tightening her lips. His response put the tiniest dent in her imagination but Erik was a story that she couldn't pass up.

"What ever are you doing?" she asked curiously, her head tilting to the side as she observed him hunched over a small hole he'd dug into the ground near a thick tree.

"Parsnips." he said immediately.

She gave him a questioning look.

"If you leave them in the ground during the winter, they'll be sweeter in the spring."

Oh.

There was an awkward silence, and Erik, apparently growing bored, turned back to filling the hole once again, his body shielding it from view. He finished rather quickly after that.

"Your brother." he said brusquely. "Does he know when we can begin our lessons again?"

Instantly, she felt the sting of envy course through her veins again. "I haven't spoken to him about it." she answered a little more snappishly then she had intended.

"Oh. Well, then." his expression grew bored yet again. "I suppose I'll be seeing you later then."

"But don't you want to see the river?" she ventured desperately. Erik looked at her bemusedly.

"What?"

"My cousin says that there's a river not too far from here. I-I think I may have been there once when I was younger." Truthfully she could remember no such thing but she did recall Cain talking about it once, not too long ago, when she'd been at his side, pestering him.

Erik gave what appeared to be an annoyed sigh, but giving a glance ath his work, he merely gave a resigned sigh. "Sure, little one."

Raven silently squealed in delight. As they slowly mad there way into the wood she kept her eye peeled for a sparkling gleam of water. It didn't take her long, but to her disappointment she found that it was entirely frozen. She frowned a bit, as she turned to him.

Erik was leaning against the tree, his face utterly disinterested.

"Isn't it lovely?"she offered weakly.

Erik gave a small nod. She hurriedly tried to create some other topic of conversation, but Erik wasn't interested.

"Raven." he said quietly. "There is something bothering him?"

Raven turned his head from him, her eyes burning. How could they so rapidly be this close? Why was everyone always so interested in _him? _Why could no one ever look at _her?_ Her eyes slowly lit up when she saw that the river wasn't as frozen as she'd thought. In certain areas, the water was merely slushy. A sudden idea began to form into her head.

"If I fell into the river, would you save me?"

Erik simply gave her a probing glance. "I suppose I'd have to, wouldn't I?"

In an instant, she had leaped bowleggedly into the swirling waters. It was much, much colder than she could have ever thought. It also sucked her in quicker than she would've thought possible. IT pulled her under and for a terrible moment she was suffocating, her throat closing, when suddenly she felt arms wrap around her, and shortly thereafter her head broke out of the water.

The air pricked at her throat like needles, and she gasped, gulping the air in desperately. She was dimly aware of being tossed back onto the bank and then something warm being wrapped around her tightly.

Blinking, she slowly came to, Erik's enraged face bearing down on her. He looked absolutely apoplectic.

"Thank you ever, so sir. Thank you so much. Thank you." she rushed out as soon as she was able to breathe again, shuddering violenlty against the old. She saw that Erik had taken off his shirt and cloak and given it to her, wrapping it tightly aorund her. She was brimming with gratefulness.

"_Are you completely fucking stupid!"_ he snarled. His fists were clinched so hard his knuckles were almost white. "_Do you have any idea how you could've drowned? Any longer and you might've been at risk for pneumonia!"_ his voice echoed in the quiet of the wood.

"I-I wanted you to save me." she sputtered out lamely.

The servant looked as if he really might hit her just then. His voice suddenly got very low and his eyes impossibly dark. "Is this what you call a joke?"

"You saved me."

"You are utterly stupid." he breathed. He stepped towards her prone form, and she flinched, drawing herself up."Get out of here. Go home! Before I do something I regret."

"Thank you." she replied defiantly instead. "I shall be grateful to you. Forever and always."

"_GO HOME!"_ he snapped at her, and she jumped to her feet instantantenously, backing away, her body trembling in the cold. She would have to sit in front of the fire for hours and have Cook prepare something for her. She gave a smile to herself. He and her prince had shared a lot with each other, but she could console herself in thinking that they at least hadn't shared that. If she could somehow expand on that, then maybe he would see her for something worth loving.

Perhaps...

...

Erik hurried to his quarters, cursing himself as he did so. It had been beyond foolish to follow that little girl. Truthfully, he was only doing it becaus he'd wanted to distract her from what he'd been hiding, but he honestly hadn't imagined that she would do something so reckless and stupid. He had thought that she would be smarter than to do something like that, and what on earth had she done it for anyway? He had thought that she would at least be like Charles and that she'd-he stopped himself. Leaning his head against the wall of his room he let loose a sigh. Why did the boy keep cropping up in his thoughts? What was he thinking?

...

Charles was sitting hunched over in the chapel, his eyes incredibly tired. He had no idea how long he'd been awake-surely much longer than he was used to. He'd been sleeping a lot less lately and he hadn't been eating nearly as much as he should. Even now his stomach gave off weak protestations.

Giving a sigh, he slowly began to relight the incense, the candles flickering. There were many in here and his eyes were exhausted. He prayed quietly underneath his breath.

"Are you still here?"

Charles jumped up, nearly dropping the candle he was holding to light the others.

"What're you doing here?"

Erik looked tired, and his eyes were slightly troubled. "I haven't been in a place like this all by myself sine I was a child." he gave a quiet sigh. "You can feel it more when you are alone."

Charles looked at him, all the new feelings of shame and embarassment creeping on him again. His gaze moved hastily away and he focused on lighting the next row.

"God comes to us whenever we are in danger. And sometimes, when we wish to talk, when we are most at peace." Charles responded sullenly.

Erik simply looked at him. "And does he come to you, _kleine Maus?"_

Charles' eyes drifted. "Sometimes." he said gently. "He will give me signs."

He does not recall when Erik came to stand next to him, only that the candle is snatched from him, as he had nearly burnt his fingers.

"Saved me." he said distratedly and he thinks he sees something in Erik's gaze.

"Tell me, Charles, have you ever doubted him?" the look he gives him is imploring and Charles simply cannot meet his eyes. Not in God's house. And quite unexpectedly he feels like crying. He wihes there was some way he could make these perversions _stop._ "I-I-I don't-I don't _know._" he manages to stutter out finally. "I don't _know._"

And then he is crying, tears pouring down his cheeks, embarassment flowing through his veins. And the shame. The utter _shame_. "I'm sorry, my friend." he brushes the tears out of his eyes hurriedly. "Please forgive me."

Erik looks away, leaving him to pull himself together. To Charles' relief he acts as though nothing had happened.

"Will you be teaching me again, Charles?" he asked offhandedly. It was so out of the blue, Charles nearly laughed.

"Soon...soon, I think. Maybe tomorrow." he replied, and he feels the knot in his stomach loosen just the tiniest bit.

"I think I would very much enjoy that." he responds.

There is another of the silences, and for a brief moment Charles finally meets his eyes, and what he finds there is something he cam't quite identify.

But then he doesn't have enough time to think too much about that.

Because all of a sudden, Erik leans in and he is kissing him. And there is an ephemeral moment where it is the most lovely sensation Charles has ever felt. There are sparks flying in his heart somewhere and as he closes his eyes, he feels himself lean into the body over him. But when he opens them again, and sees the effigy of Mary looking down at him, he nearly screams in horror.

Erik must feel it too, because he backs away as if stung, and looks at him as if seeing something else entirely. It had all happened so quickly it may as well hadn't have happened at all, but Charles knew with growing terror that it had and what it meant.

For a moment, his mouth was simply frozen in shock and he felt the foul taste of bile rise in his throat, and he saw his own horror reflected in his friend's eyes.

Then Erik's face smoothed suddenly, instantly blank as if nothing had transpired at all. His back straightened, and his eyes so previously full of passion grew dull and expressionless.

"I will see you tomorrow, then."

"Erik, I'm sor-"

"Good night, Charles."

As he left, Charles' stomach gurgled in pain, and the guilt swirled within him as he felt the shame if sin claw away at his insides, forcing back the impulse to vomit.

...

a/n:9/4/11 HOLY SHIT BALLZ. This is the first all-nighter I've pulled in a _long_ fucking time. It's friggin' two-something in the morning. I had been having some serious writer's block lately, but a good friend gave me some good advice that got me writitng again. Thank you lover! *wink* This would be longer, but again, all-nighter, AND I'M TIRED AS FUCK.

NOTES ON THE TEXT:

1. So Raven isn't insane, just an attention whore. I sooo stole that scene from Atonement. Holy shit, I'm terrible, but I guess Raven's Briony-ish enough. Also, her behavior is sorta important for how she's gonna behave later on in the story.

2.I can't remember what the thing is when they light candles but I may just pass out in two minutes so _whatever,_ for now. If you know what it is, please inform me!

Review, review.

Nehan Shinzui


	13. Loyalty

That Which is Forbidden by Nehan Shinzui

a/n:9/5/11 Ok, it's almost 1 in the morning, and as I'm waiting for my shitty internet to load, I think I'll start this. I friggin' start school tomorrow. Tomorrow! Oh, Gawd. How annoying. But my Internet taking a half-hour to load Yahoo is more irritating. But at least I have the soothing sounds of Mos Def to help me through it. :)

Chapter Thirteen: Loyalty

He was slipping. He was slipping in ways he'd never had before and he didn't know what to do. What was wrong with him? How could he have been so stupid? Had he forgotten already his goal, just because he had momentarily been charmed by a boy whose father had-

Erik continued to berate himself for the rest of the night. Who knew what the boy might say to his father. Shaking his head, he determined that the best action was to pretend that nothing had happened. Charles' fear and embarssment would surely prevent him from saying anything. Erik forced himself to smother the small bit of concern that he felt himself beginning to feel burning in his chest; Charles had looked positively ill after it had happened. And yet, Erik found himself conceding, despite his obvious fear afterward, Charles had ultimately returned the kiss as it had happened. Erik gave a slow shudder. He would have to solve this. He didn't know what he would do if Charles started to grow feelings for him.

...

Cain whispered a fervent prayer as he made his way out of the wood, his hands trembling from the frost that had begun to cover them, still just barely damp. Brushing his body off urgently, he sought out his uncle, eyes skimming the grounds for him in the dark. His thoughts were beginning to drift and he was becoming afraid that what he'd done would most certainly cause him to suffer. But with his uncle's approval he had been assured that what he was doing was the work of God and that surely he was in the right for following him. He would certainly forgive him despite his-

He quickly left that train of thought alone.

Besides his uncle had made a signal just now for him to meet in his trudged through the corridors, making his way up into Sebastian's rooms, his thoughts torturous.

Sebastian wasted no time when he reached him.

"Were there any problems?"

"None sir." Cain responded simply.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at his brisk tone. "You are quite certain, my nephew?"

"Yes, sir. I can assure you that no one saw me."

His uncle gave a sharp nod as he turned back to whatever he was studying at the moment.

"Excellent, Cain. You have done very well tonight."

In some twisted way, this small amount of praise made him feel his chest swell with just the barest hint of pride.

He stood there awkwardly for a moment, eyes scanning the room nervously. He didn't know what to say.

Sebastian, after awhile noticing he was still there, gave him a curious glance.

Cain felt a twinge of embarassment.

Then, suddenly,

"How are you finding your cousin?"

He was temporarily at a loss for words. He could instantly feel the nausea boiling in his stomach, and his whole body stiffened for a moment. He gave Sebastian a horrified glance, before collecting his senses, leveling his breath. His uncle observed him with an amused air.

"H-(he gathered himself) How do you mean?"

"You two have not seen each other for years. Not since you were children, really."

"Charles is still a child." Cain found himself spitting out without thinking. He flinched immediately, sure he had spoken out of turn. "My apologies." he added hastily.

Sebastian's eyes merely twinkled in that way that way that was never the reassuring move it was meant to be. "As he should be." he responded absentmindedly.

Cain was affronted. "But he continues to stray and he is at risk of-"

"Of what?" his uncle's smirk sent a small shudder down his spine. The truth was Cain honestly had no idea how to answer that. How could he explain to the bishop what Charles continued to do to him? He would never believe him! He would think it was his fault! _Just like Father did..._ he thought bitterly. But then he remembered and he blanched at the memory.

"He...he should be disciplined more firmly."

The man gave an outright bark of laughter at that. "Oh, Cain, _Cain."_ he said shaking his head in amsuement, and the younger man had the distinct feeling he was being mocked. "There isn't any need for _that._ I learned long ago from your father's mistakes." Cain bristled, shoulders stiffening.

"Do you think he is not capable of straying? He must be disicplined."

Sebastian tutted. "I didn't know you were quite so invested in how I raise my children, nephew."

Cain bowed his head apologetically, knowing despite the man's soft tone he had stepped out of line. "Forgive me."

"Nevertheless, I must say that is _precisely_ what I believe. Charles is incapable of ever betraying me."

Seeing Cain's disbelieving look, he gave another short laugh. "Have you never wondered why I have never allowed him any type of association with anyone other than me? Have you never wondered why not even his own Mother knows him the way I do?"

His nephew gave him a perplexed look.

Sebastian gave an offhand gesture with his hand. "Charles cannot even think without my permission. I have raised him so that he cannot connect with people. At least not in the way others can. This is the only world he knows. It is the only thing I have shown him."

"But eventually, he will stray from you-have you not already secured a place for him under you once Wosley is dealt with? I-I have diffiulty that he will be-c-corrupted by one of our enemies there." Cain tried to sound as concerned about his uncle's plan as possible but he was really worried about having to work beside his cousin for so long.

"Cain, really." the bishop said exasperatedly with no small hint of irritation now. "Have you not been listening to anything I've said?"

He was silent.

"Consider this for a moment." the man pressed. "My son has only ever been exposed to my will. I have made him so dependent upon me that he cannot be loyal to anyone else. When I place him, he will know no one and therefore, any deviation from my law cripples him."

"How so, sir?"

"Because I have made it so. When he was growing up, he did not know what small infraction would bring punishment. It did not matter really, however large or small it was, if he wasn't in total sync with me, harm would come. It is the same now. Even now, it is painfully obvious how testing me plagues him. He will not confess to me, but he has not eaten. He has not slept. He is tortured by his own thoughts. There is no longer any need to punish him, because he will do it to himself. My word is second only to God in his mind. I am very nearly his God. And he will ensure that all who follow him will feel the same."

Cain shifted uncomfortably at his words. He was reminded of his father. "Th-those thoughts are very close to heresy." he mumbled. "Attempting to be someone's God."

Sebastian smirked down at him, his eyes alight. "And yet you have no issue entrusting me with your judgement." he replied sardonically.

The younger's face flushed.

"My son is so very precious and dear to me." the man said suddenly confessed. "But we are all made hypocrites I'm afraid."

...

Cain's mind was reeling when he went back to his rooms to pray. His uncle had confused him with his words. And he'd never realized how frightened he was of the man. If he were to ever discover his... _slips_ concerning his son...he would never be allowed to be forgiven. He would never be able to take back the even greater sin he had been forced to commit by him. And he would do whatever it took to ensure that he would fall into the Lord's graces.

But when he looked at his hands, he saw that they were still stained with blood.

_You were poisoned from the start. _

He closed his eyes. He couldn't remember whose it was.

...

_They were both running as fast as they could, the man's heavy lumbering urging them on._

_Erik dashed around a corner, slipping into the narrow alley before the man could notice, the man's earnings for the evening clutched tightly to his chest, the coins jingling loudly. _

_It had been a stupid idea, theft. But Erik had been certain that they could purchase a month's worth of supplies at the very least with this man's money. Neither one of them liked him anyway. Kurt hadn't wanted to, but he'd pushed him. And now, because Erik wasn't as slick as he thought he was, this man would surely kill them._

_He was safe now though, his chest heaving. It would only be a matter of time though, before the man would turn into the alley._

_And Kurt wasn't by his side. To his horror, Erik realized that Kurt had stopped and was standing in front of their chaser stock-still._

_Peeking from behind the wall, Erik understood that his brother must be stalling for time. He couldn't get his head around why though; it had been his own fault-Kurt owed him nothing._

_He flinched violently as the man swung his fist at him, knocking the boy to the ground, drawing blood from his nose. His brother didn't make a sound though, and merely stoicly took the blows that continued to rain down upon him, ignoring the questions of where his abuser's money had gone._

_Eventually, the man was hauled back by one of the other villagers who told him to forget it, and that the other theif was probably long gone by now._

_Erik watched as the villagers taunted the now still boy before him from where he hid, and felt a wash of shame. He knew that Kurt had done this on purpose, so Erik could hide, but that didn't stop the guilt._

_He waited till nightfall, when the square had cleared, and his legs had stiffened painfully before he went to him, his fingers cramped into the position they'd been held in all day._

_Crouching down, he touched his brother's face, and felt tears prick at his eyes before he forced them back. He couldn't help letting loose a choked sob when his fingers came back bloodied and stained red however._

_To his surprise, Kurt let loose a bubbly chuckle, blood spurting from his mouth, eyes still closed._

_"Keep it where it belongs, Erik." he admonished quietly._

_Erik gave a smile. "You are stupid. Why would you do such a thing?"_

_Kurt's eyes opened slowly, and he gave him a smile. "We are part of the same cause, brother. Who else will be loyal to us?"_

_Words had never touched hm like that before. He handed Kurt most of the money and urged him to keep it, as they made their way back to their home, Erik helping him along the way._

_..._

That had not been the only time Kurt had saved his life. They had sworn to be loyal to each other, to uphold Azazel's cause until death, to fight for him and to betray none of them. So why was it, that he felt himself ready to betray the lot of them for this boy? To throw away everything?

Erik knew it wasn't Charles' fault and that he was terribly afraid of him of what had occured, for his own reasons. He knew Charles could never even dream of being a threat to him. But Charles was loyal to his father and that was enough.

...

As Charles made his way through the corrider, shuddering against the cold, he reached a decision, certain it was the right choice. If he couldn't confess to his father, he should at least confess to his friend, if only to clear things up. It would be excruciating for him, but it had to be the right thing to do-surely then, his sinful thoughts would leave him after and he'd have one less weight on his chest. The secret had been slowly killing him inside.

He found Erik in just returning to his quarters when he entered, his hair still damp, from water and he assumed he's just taken a bath. Charles couldn't help blushing when he recalled the last time he had encountered him in the wash.

The older man gave him a cursory glance before nudging past him, and reaching his room. His demeanor appeared stiffer and somewhat colder than it had since they'd last spoken, and this left a burning feeling of hurt in his chest.

Erik continued to ignore him, before Charles cleared his throat uncertainly.

"Erik?" he intoned imploringly.

The man gave him a small nod before he rustled through his small cabinet, not meeting his eyes.

"Erik-I-I want to talk to you-about..about-what we did."

"Charles, I don't believe I know what you're talking about. Come, are we going to continue our lessons today?"

There was none of the affection Erik had shown him in earlier meetings. Charles' resolve crumpled.

"I-it's nothing, my friend." he replied, voice weak. "I-I just...let's continue from where we left off, shall we?"

He brought the chessboard out, and they continued.

Charles supposed it wasn't so bad, ignoring it, wishing it away. It must be better this way, surely. _Surely._

With each glance at the man before him, eyes indifferent, and smile suddenly reserved, he was killing Charles inside.

...

a/n: 9/18/11 I have an important announcement. Sex is coming! In the next 2-3 chapters, I _promise_ you! And next chapter, there will be a small dubconny moment.

And I hope some of you sort of get what I;m hinting out with Cain and the bloody hands and his father. And I really hope you guys understand Shaw's evil plans. Well, it should be obvious from the summary though so... um...yeah. And school actually isn't so bad so far, but these people are tryna force me to get this tdap vaccine and I really don't trust these people...Hmm, there aren't really notes on the text this chapter. Oh, and thanks to **Elphie21** yet again for helping me with my religion fails. And of course, thank you to all my precious reviewers and fans, you are like my life force.

Nehan Shinzui


	14. Thirst

a/n: Ok, so I finally got tired of copying and pasting the title into every chapter. Plus, it's kind of unnecassary. Anyway, I REACHED A LITTLE OVER A HUNDRED REVIEWS. I can't tell you how badly I was freaking out. Am still freaking out. This is friggin' huge for me. I've never even gotten close to a hundred. I want to thank every single last one of you for sticking with this story, and helping me get through some really bad days and inspiring me to push on. You're all so flarking awesome! I just want to hug all of you violently. Seriously. No words can describe the euphoria I felt. It was a good evening. :) Anywho, I have to say, it's just one more chapter, and then these two boys will be getting it in, doing the down and dirty. And after that, things will start to accelerate very quickly. And some of you will want to throw rocks at me, lol. But, I digress. On with the Chappeh!

Chapter Fourteen: Thirst

They continued on with their lessons, despite cold or frost, and eventually they were able to reach a middleground where the two came to be warmer to each other as they were before. However, beneath this warmth was a cold tension-though Erik took to using his playful euphemisms again, he was much more reserved as far as revealing parts of himself and letting things slip. Charles took more to himself as well, though no matter how hard he tried, there was still something that burned inside him, buried beneath all his outer feelings. He wondered vaguely if it was the same for Erik.

...

Sometimes there was the barest hint here or there, of what they were feeling but it was never something they outwardly addressed. Once in awhile, Erik would stare at him with a farway look in his eyes, and his tone would become gentler for a while. Or other times, Charles would blush at something Erik had said, or her would laugh a little too heartily at some small thing he'd told him. There would come an awkward silence, there breath becoming fog in the icy chill and then they would move on as though nothing had happened. Recently, however, these little incidents were becoming more frequent, with more of what seemed like urgency, as if they were running out of time to keep hiding it.

...

Cain hadn't thought much of Charles and the servant, his thoughts as they often were, preoccupied with other things, among the rather nasty business with a few of his uncle's opponents. Sebastian had assured him that his reward would be great, and he couldn't say he felt these people didn't deserve it anyway. It was all justified. It wasn't his fault.

In any case, he only really started noticing the relationship the two had once he'd begun staying more fully in his uncle's household. He'd suddenly found himself observing how Charles hardly came to dinner or any type of family gathering. He was often missing entirely, and he couldn't for the life of him, figure out where he could've gone. He felt foolish asking where he was, when the rest of them were so nonchalant about his absence, so he merely made a throwaway remark about it when Raven had begun her usual needling.

He'd something like,

"Oh, I haven't seen Charles in his rooms lately."

He'd flinched at how it had sounded, about what it may have implied, and he was forever grateful that it had been Raven he had slipped in front of, and not her father or father. Sometimes, he had the distinct impression that Emmaline knew a bit of what his thoughts were about his son. He blanched at the mere thought of the way her eyes followed him whenever he and Charles were in the same room, of the slight smirk that threatened him, her stare cold and penetrating, as if testing him, prodding at his thoughts.

Raven though, in her naivete had merely told him that Charles was teaching, having taken a servant as one of his students.

"He works with him, alone?" Cain had bristled almost instantly, incensed that such a thing could be allowed to happen.

"Why, of course he does. It's only in the servants' quarters. He enjoys it quite a bit actually. The two are rather fond of each other."

"Why? What could they possibly have in common?" he snarled.

The girl shrugged, giving him a bemused look. "I don't see how it matters really. But it does get bothersome." Her face darkened just the slightest bit, but it cleared quickly. "What does it matter to you anyway, who he hangs out with?"

Cain froze. Heat spread in the back of his neck and into his cheeks. "Nothing-it's just-does your father not worry? About Charles being around people like that? They're nothing like us you know. They're uneducated and filthy-they're like animals. Who knows what someone like that could put into your brother's head?" _Or what your brother could put into his. _ he added quietly to himself.

"Father approved of it himself. In fact, he was the one to come up with the idea in the first place."

"Uncle _planned_ this?" he couldn't keep the disbelief out of his voice. "And he allows him to be absent from things to be with this..._servant?_ And Charles prefers it that way."

Raven crinkled her nose at him, definitelyon to his tone now. "As far as I can tell."

"And they are alone into the night?"

"I don't see how it makes any difference. It all seems very boring to me." Raven said, now seemingly disinterested, but turning back to her drawings with a deliberatness that Cain recognized as a taunt for him to take the bait. He thought himself lucky to catch it in time.

Collecting himself, he merely gave shrug in return. "It's nothing cousin. I'm just not used to the idea. Forgive me."

He stood up, and cast a final glance at her mildly disappointed face.

...

Erik found himself wandering the halls yet again, his eyes casing every feature of the place for what felt like the hundreth time. He already knew where all the memebers of the house slept, including each of the servants' rooms in their quarters. After careful observation and from some careful neggling, knew the kitchen down to the last crumb. He could make his way through any of the windows now without rousing the slightest bit of suspicion. He smiled at this accomplishment. As a child, it had been Kurt who was able to disappear so efficiently. Erik had been the one who was always so loud, brash and bumbling. But, he'd had the one thing his oath brother didn't have-a great amount of patience. Kurt had complained though, that this wasn't always a good thing-particularly when he was very angry about something. He'd be perfectly calm until he faced whatever had angred him-then he'd use all the pent-up rage he had and lose all thoughts of rationality. He frowned at that thought. Stretching himself, he had to admit that part was true-he'd found himself almost losing his life several times because of his emotions. But still, he mentally defended himself, it was the only way he could ensure he'd be able to carry the mission out-the conditions had to be there.

_Were they there when you dreamt of him?_

He shook his head violently. He'd swore to himself that he would stop thinking of such things-that he would focus on his task-if he was sure of anything, it was that he musn't let his emotions get the better of him this time-certainly not over the boy. Shaking his head, he turned down a corner, hoping to feel the heat that a warm wash would reward him.

...

Cain stormed down the hall, his thoughts furious. He tried to convince himself that he really was worried about how this man could be a bad influence on him, and that he just wanted to help. But the thought of what the two could be doing-

He forced those thoughts out. No, it didn't do to dwell on such things. It wasn't his business. He didn't care. The man came to a stop as he noticed that the door leading into the bathhouse from one of the halls in the larger part of the estate had been left open. There were a few of these doors, leading from one of the halls closer to their rooms going directly into the bathouse, with one of them opening out into a corrider outside. Cain himself disapproved of them sharing the wash with the servants, but it was only once in awhile since the servants were only permitted to once every week or so. But he noticed that this was the door closest to Charles' room. On impulse, he felt the urge to follow the trail of steam that leaked from the door.

He opened the door a bit wider. The water must have been very fresh because steam was everywhere and the room was very warm. As he adjusted his eyes, and as he caught sight of the one that had been plaguing his thoughts since the two had first laid eyes on each other, he was subconsciously aware that his mouth had begun to water.

Charles was in the center of the room, water glistening down his body. In the dim light, his pale skin seemed to be glowing and the ater gave his body a pleasant sheen. His red lips were parted slightly, and as he watched, he saw his pink tounge dart out just slightly, grazing his lips. He bent down again, dipping the rag inside the bucket so that he could douse it over his head again. As he bent forward, Cain could see the pale shape if hsi buttocks and he felt his pants tighten instantly at the sight, as if pushing past them into the tight heat inside. His head was beginning to swim, and for a moment he was lost.

...

Erik should've known by now that it wasn't wise to just go about barging into the washroom without at least a precautionary knock, but he was pretty familiar with the houses' patterns. So he was fairly surprised when he walked into find Charles in there, since the boy was normally apt to do it earlier in the mornings just before their lessons. He was reluctant to admit it, but it was actually quite the..._pleasant_ surprise seeing his teacher so completely exposed like that, so vulnerable looking. He was just opening his mouth to let loose a small sound to say some small, joking remark, something to offset the warmth spreading through him, when he saw him. Charles had turned to him, finally noticing his presence and was blushing as was expected, a surprised 'Erik!' loosed from his lips as he bent to cover himself.

But Erik was looking past that, towards the man who stood across from him, partially hidden in a doorway that led into another room. He had heard from his friend that this man was his cousin and had seen him several times since he had arrived. But almost instantly Erik began to worry.

Erik had once seen a man, when he was traveling with his group, who was starving. He'd been chained to a post for much longer than all of them could agree was necessary. The villagers had said the man was possessed and that they couldn't let him loose, lest he go on and attack the children. Erik, out of pity, had tossed the man a large hunk of bread. The look in the man's eyes, the utter hunger with which he snatched the bread out of his hands was very similar to the look Cain was giving Charles just now.

It unnerved him so much so that he temporarily lost track of what he was saying. And at the same time, he felt a sure of sudden protectiveness over Charles, determined that no one be allowed to see him like this.

His cousin seemed to have caught his eye because the man suddenly appeared to become aware of himself, and he turned and dashed back into the hall, just as Charles turned his head, now realizing where he was looking.

Charles turned back to him, his face a cherry-red. "I-" he stumbled out, voice hoarse from embarassment, hunched as to cover himself.

Erik let a small, nervous chuckle escape his throat. "You are a maiden, Charles."

They stared at each other in the awkward silence, Charles' body still dripping and the thought of his cousin's eyes still leaving a haunting impression in him. He was only happy that Charles had not seen him. It wasn't his business anyway, he told himself. It was none of his concern what the child of that _murderer_ felt or what happened to him.

He gave another sigh. "You are a _maiden_, Charles."

...

Cain's mind was in a whirlwind as he dashed into his rooms, his body, blundering and crashing into the walls as he moved almost blindly through the corridors. He felt as though his skin were burning and he collapsed several times, tripping over the steps, nearly breaking into hysterical sobs. When he reached his rooms, he crumpled entirely onto the floor his chest heaving violently, the strong and bitter taste of bile in his throat. Clawing at the ground, he gave a loud prayer of forgiveness before slamming his head into the ground, his hands digging into his wrists as he groveled convulsively on the floor.

_Wrong, wrong, wrong he'd been tempted he was going to burn, why was it that he could never listen to what the Lord was telling him, why did he allow the Devil to control him like this?_

Rocking slightly against the ground, Cain tried to think of the prayer his father had taught him, but he was still hard, and he didn't know what to do with it now. The thirst was killing him.

Peering through his hair and tears, he spotted his rod beneath his bed and made a vain attempt to crawl his way towards it.

But the image of Charles bent over caused his mouth to salivate and his mind was instantly flooded of all the things he could do with him. Giving a helpless sob, that echoed throughout his room, he shoved a hand down his trousers and grabbed himself, giving himself a few furious jerks until he wasn't as painfully hard as he was previously.

"Oh, father, I warned you." he whimpered. "I warned you, and you didn't listen. Why didn't you listen? I don't want to burn. Why didn't you help me?" he asked mournfully.

And then even as he jerked himself to completion, all he could see was his father's face, angry and condemning. And then there was fire everywhere and the sound of his father's anguished yells.

_Oh, father, I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to, I just didn't want you to hurt me anymore._

_I don't want to burn._

And then...

_"Let me show you just what you deserve, Cain."_

But that wasn't happening anymore, he couldn't hurt him anymore, no matter how much the demons tempted him because he...because he...

The sky was stained with blood and Cain came with a loud grunt that echoed across the house.

...

Charles suffered a small setback after the seccond incident in the shower. He found himself committing a weeks worth of penance in the chapel afterwards, because of his thoughts regarding his friend. For a moment, Charles had wanted Erik to approach him...and _take him_ was the only way he could describe it. He wasn't altogether sure how such things worked, but he knew he'd felt a strong urge of something in that moment when they'd locked eyes. He had seen Cain every time he'd been in there, looking more than a little harried and sickly-looking and his cousin had nearly fled every time he'd entered.

It bothered him.

...

Eventually, Charles, feeling that perhaps his cousin was ill, decided he would check on him. After all, he was still feeling more than a bit guilty about the way he'd treated him when he'd first arrived back.

He waited in his room for maybe half an hour, beginning to think that his cousin was going to actually spend the night in the chapel when the door to his room entered and Cain came in.

It was hard to describe the look that crossed Cain's face just then-a mixture of horror, revulsion, fright, and almost gleeful excitement was the best way he could think of it. Charles was a bit thrown but he offered the older man a slight smile anyway.

Cain's face then took on an entirely blank expression.

"I should have known you would seek me in my weakness." he said dully, walking into the room and sitting in the chair, positioning himself carefully so that he was beside him, but not near enough that there knees were touching.

"I-I was worried about you." Charles told him, his voice soft. "I hadn't seen you around lately, and you hardly come out of chapel anymore. And-and-you don't look as though you've been eating."

Cain avoided his eyes and stared stiffly ahead at the windowsill, his eyes fixed in an injured insect limping weakly across the sill.

"When God told Lot's wife not to turn, she turned. She disobeyed."

Charles gave him a curious glance. "Are you afraid that you may have strayed from his teachings, cousin?"

Cain's eyes did not move from the insect on the sill.

"The cities of Sodom and Gomorrah were filled with sin and immorality. They were filtyh and dishonorable and given to unholy passions."

Charles was growing unnerved. Cain seemed to be in a trance. As he stared at his cousin, he noticed beneath is sleeves and at his collar, the marks of fresh scars criss-crossing his body. His skin was covered in harsh and enflamed welts, and as Charles looked closer, he saw what appeared ti be burn marks on him as well.

"Cain!" he gasped. "Who has done this to you? Why, you're still bleeding!"

"And so God came and burned down the cities with sulfur and used them as an example of what would happen to those who are ungodly. He turned them into ashes."

"Cain, what has happened to you? You need help!"

"I have done this to myself, Charles. To atone for my wrongdoing." It was the first time he had acknowledged his presence since he had walked in.

"To _yourself?"_ Charles exclaimed, aghast. "There is no need for that! How could you even think of doing such a thing to yourself? This is not the Lord would want. He does not mean this."

For the first time, Cain turned his gaze away from the limping insect. "We must all face our sins alone, my dear cousin."

Charles shook his head, and placed his hand over his cousin's in attempt to console him. Cain hastily turned his head again.

"No, Cain. There is no reason that you have to face it all alone. Please tell me what it is that troubles you. I can help." Cain turned to him again, and Charles offered his dull and blank face the faintest and most nervous of smiles, in what he hoped was a reassuring fashion.

Leaning in, his trembling voice little more than above a whisper, Cain told him:

_"Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed, is willing but the flesh is weak. The _flesh_ is _weak."

...

Cain had thought for a brief moment, that he would be able to resist, that after hours of repenting, of praying and begging for forgiveness, for punishing himself first by purging his stomach and then making himself feel what Christ might have felt on the cross, he thought that would be enough. He was such a fool. He should've known that the Devil was much stronger than that.

When Charles had touched his hands he'd felt the the first stirrings of what was to come. And when he had turned to see him giving him that smile, he'd lost all sense of control.

His hands dug into his cousin's hair and he was towering over him, his lips crushed over his, biting and pulling as he knocked him over into the bed. He felt Charles' smaller hands push against his chest, his slighter frame struggling beneath him, but that only cause him to grow more excited as he began to rut against him. Cain was in a frenzy now, and he was vaguely conscious that he was drooling again, the saliva dripping down his chin in his flurry to touch as much as Charles as he possibly could. He was pulling at his clothes and

_Wantitwantitwantit need this so bad, gonna mark him all over gonna shove it down his mouth, I'll shove it down his throat. I'll cum all over him put it all over his mouth dear lord fucking whore he's going to feel so good wrapped around me_

And that's when they both heard the loud sound of Raven and her mother come barging up the stairs towards Cain's rooms.

Charles' pleas caught in his throat and his cousin tore himself off of him, his gaze maddened. Charles looked up at him in horror, and saw that his eyes had reddened from lack of sleep as well, and that in combination with his scarred body and what he'd just done, gave him the look of a mad vagrant that he'd once heard his father describing.

Cain, for the moment, now looked as though he were utterly confused about what had just happened-it was though he had no control of his actions whatsoever. His breathing was incredibly labored as he took in the sight of his younger cousin weal and defenseless and with marks now covering his neck.

"You do this to humiliate me." he breathed.

Charles scrambled from the bed, his eyes huge and afraid as he stumbled across the room and towards the door. "I won't tell anyone." He honestly couldn't see how he could, with how mortifying it all was. And there was still that small part of him, that felt that perhaps in light of everything he'd begun thinking about Erik this was his punishment.

"_You do it to humiliate me!"_ Cain wailed, his voie broken. "You taunt me with your kindness. You crush me with your words."

Charles put his hand on the door. "I won't speak of it, Cain. I won't speak of it."

"Get out of here, demon! You've gotten what you wished, now leave me be! For once, leave me!"

He picked up something as if to throw it, and Charles bolted from the doorway and out into the hall, greeting his mother and sister with a breathless and forced grin, hiding his terror and bewilderment.

...

a/n: Ok, so that's a hella weird place to stop. Anywho, I just wanted to really get this out today because my homeh **LoveFueledHate** is leaving in a few days so this chap is sort of dedicated to her, cuz she's just the bomb. So hopefully, you guys realize what's popping off with Cain and his dad now! And I'm sorry if the attempted rape seemed a little rushed I might redo it. It's meh friend's leaving on Friday and if it's Wednesday here(well it's 1:33 right now, so /i guess it's Thursday now) then it's Thursday there and youu an kinda see why I feel pressed.

Oh, btw I found the perfect songs for Charles and Erik. They're both by Joss Stone-one's called _Bad Habit_ and the other one is _Proper Nice_ and they just feel so perfect for these two in this story. Well, I also think the trailer music for _Atonement_ fits for them too, but anyho,

Nehan Shinzui


	15. Illness

a/n: 10/27/11 Omg, I am so sorry, I'm updating so late! I can't believe I let myself get this far behind! I've been way behind in all my fics actually...

I think that this is going to be a double update or something...Ah geez, school's been taking over my life lately. smh Well, the quarter's over at least. Anyways, this is going to be one of the more difficult chapters-I was debating on whether or not I was going to actually add this in fact but..um. I guess I'll try writing it and see what happens...

Chapter Fifteen: Illness

He would not come out of his rooms. It had been weeks since it had happened, and his family was now convinced that he was ill. If he was, it was a sickness he had never had before. It was in illness in his heart.

Raven came and told him that Cain had gone off into town, had set off to the larger monastary to stay for awhile until Father needed him, but her words barely registered. Charles had given her a blank look and turned his head.

* * *

><p>He could not bear to see Erik again, knowing that he was the object of such-such <em>perverse<em> desires. And to know that, in reality, he harbored the same blasphemous desires himself. To plague his friend with _that_ to subject him to something as sickening as that-it was wrong. Charles could no longer pretend as though it wasn't there. But how could he simply drop everything that they had built so far? How could he simply abandon the only friend he had had since he was a small child? He didn't know and it made his head swim in pain.

* * *

><p>Sebastian came for him a week into his depression. For a second, Charles truly thought that his father had discovered what he'd done. Knew of his poisoned and sick thoughts. But that was not why he had come.<p>

Placing a hand on his sweaty brow, he said simply, "You have been ill for quite a while now."

Charles could only give a soft whimper in response.

"Do you not wish to continue your lessons with the servant?"

Charles nodded. Despite it all, despite the fact that he knew he shouldn't, that he didn't deserve it, he still wanted to teach. It was one of the few things he enjoyed, and he would hate for it to be taken away.

"Speak up, boy." his father scolded him sharply.

"Yes, Father I would very much like to resume." Charles responded immediately.

"Then why do you lay about the house in sloth?" he asked him with a raised brow. "You know that isn't permitted."

Charles' lips set into a tight line, his eyes averting from his.

"Charles," his father bristled impatiently, "I am on my way to becoming a very important man. Things are already being set up so that I can take this most important position. Something you can't even imagine." He breathed an irritated sigh. "In a few years time, I stand a very good chance of becoming pope."

The boy's eyes widened in wonder at such a feat, and he felt his admiration for his father grow. But still, his words caught in his throat. There was the faintest hint that something strange was happening-Father had never spoke to him about such a thing happening before.

"You are very precious to me, Charles. I wish for you to be at my side-to grow and be an important man. You will have to marry soon, and that will make our family even stronger."

Tears pricked at Charles' eyes. He wasn't worthy of his father's recognition.

But then, Father's tone suddenly grew harsh, and he flinched violently at the shock of it.

"But you will not be ready to accept your place near God if you continue to keep out of sync with me. To express seperate desires from the will of God."

His throat went dry. "I-I-I don't understand." he murmured weakly. Surely, he didn't know, surely he didn't.

"What other reason could there be, for this sudden sadness you are feeling right now? Your sloth is clearly a sign of you straying from His word. You have not been obeying me."

"But Father, please!" Charles found himself protesting, "I have tried my hardest to do all as you say."

Sebastain frowned down at him. "Perhaps you do not love me as avidly as you claim." he remarked wistfully.

Charles fell to his knees. "Oh, please, please don't say that. My love for you is as absolute as that for God. Please know that i would never betray you. Please forgive me for my sin of laziness. I...I must've fallen ill-I-i do not mean it, Father."

Sebastian only looked at him idly. "Illness is only the sign of weakness in faith. Confess to me boy, or you will certainly taste the fires of hell before long. Biting your toungue around me will not stall the flames."

Breathing in, Charles remained on his knees, head lowered to the ground. He had told Cain that he would tell no one. Telling him about Erik would most definitely cause him to be sent away, and the thought of that he could not bear. He is shaken out of his thoughts by the sudden snatching of his hair, his neck being pulled back until his eyes roll up into his head, staring up at his father.

"I told you not to hold your tongue!" Sebastian snarled, knocking him to the floor.

"I-I-believe," he swallowed. "That perhaps my thoughts have not been as pure and faithful as they should be."

His father said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

Forcing the words out, it feels as though the air is being snatched from his lungs. Swallowing past the frog in his throat, he whispers, "I..I have such doubts, Father."

"Doubts?" he is queried.

"Sometimes, my thoughts lead me...to places I know that they shouldn't go. And I can't-" he grasps for words-"I can't stop them. And I know that they shouldn't be but-"

Charles' words are stopped by a strong hand across his face and he crumples into himself, holding his jaw, asking for forgiveness.

"You will fast. And then you will pray. I will allow you to remain here for a little while longer and then you _will_ continue your studies and repent for having such doubtful thoughts."

Charles nodded. Perhaps this was the best way to make up for his lustful thoughts. Maybe this was what he had been doing wrong. Solid repentence was the best way. As his father briskly turned away from him, Charles finally thought to ask,

"Father, this is wonderful news you are giving me. Why didn't you tell me of your plans before?"

The hit he gained this time was much stronger, and jarred him.

"Did I not tell you to silence your thoughts of doubting me?"

"Father, no, I was just-"

"Do not question me, child." he snarled, and turned on his heel in a huff.

* * *

><p>Cain was nowhere to be found now, and he recalled that he had left to lodge at the monastary in town as Raven had said. The thought gave him some small relief. His skin still crawled with the memory of his cousin's touch. Still clenched in anxiety whenever the thought of him crossed his mind. He had still not gone to see Erik however. The very thought sent chills down his spine. He realized though, that he was going to have to see him whether he liked it or not.<p>

* * *

><p>His prediction came to fruition not a fortnight later. He had been in his room alone, studying as his father had commanded when he'd heard the sound of Raven's footsteps making his way into his room. This had given him pause; the two of them hadn't talked to each other in awhile and the last time they had hadn't been on the best of terms. He wondered vaguely why she would be stopping by now.<p>

Raven looked no less sullen than the last time she had thought to speak to him, but Charles brushed it off, and gave her an indulgent smile, taking it in stride.

"Hello, sister." he greeted her pleasantly. "And how are you?"

Raven ignored his greeting. "Erik's been asking about you an awful lot lately."

Charles' heart faltered. "He-he has?"

Her frown was prominent. "He wants to know if you've found him to be a lost cause. He says he can't blame you if you have, but he'd very much appreciate it if you had the courtesy to tell him beforehand."

The laugh Charles gives surprises even himself. He nodded. "Yes, yes, tell him-" he is taken with a sudden fit of madness."Yes, tell him that I will see him soon." Guilt tugs gently at the back of his mind, but he forces it back. Facing his fears in the flesh will heal him, will let him conquer these dangerous thoughts.

Raven suddenly looks deflated and her dark demeanor softens. "How come the two of you don't talk anymore?" she sounds genuinely curious.

"I-" he hesitates. "Of course we still talk, Raven. It's just that we move in...different circles is all. I still very much consider him a friend."

"Then how come you haven't visited him while he's sick?" she shut her mouth quickly as if she had let some secret slip out.

Instantly, Charles is on his feet. "He is ill?" The all-encompassing panic he is feeling is sudden and disturbing. "But you'd just told me he is asking for lessons."

Raven looked caught. "I..." she faltered for a moment before meeting his eyes. "He'd meant for me to tell you that awhile ago."

Charles felt his face redden and this time not in embarassment. "What has gotten into you lately, Raven? Why would you not tell me this before?"

The girl's face was stony.

Charles gave a sigh, burying his face into his hands. Suddenly he just felt exhausted. "Has someone been sent to look after him?"

"Father says that if he doesn't get better soon, he will have to leave."

Charles was thunderstruck. "But-Father-Father knows I consider him a friend. Why would he-"? he shuts his mouth quickly, not letting any more doubts escape. Hadn't he just been warned about that? Father certainly has a sound reason for this. Perhaps it is only because he has been sick recently, and doesn't want to risk further infection. It has been a frigid winter after all. But then-but then surely Father doesn't mean to leave or Erik to fend for himself in the cold. Already, they are ankle-deep in snow. The idea terrifies him.

Raven clears her throat and Charles realizes that he'd been silent longer than he had intended. "Does he still-does he still rest in his rooms?"

She nodded slowly, eyeing him cautiously.

"Has anyone been sent to pray for his health?"

"I don't see why there would be a need to." Raven responded, twirling a lock of her hair distractedly. She was being a bit untruthful-she had in fact went to his rooms to pray for him a bit, but he had always sent her out with a grunt.

He swallowed. "Then...it is my duty to go and pray for him myself."

Raven shuffled her feet. "He is quite unwell. And...I take it he does not wish to be seen."

"If he is truly unwell that holds his pride holds little consequence. I will go see him, and I will try my hardest to make things easier for him."

He has made up his mind.

* * *

><p>Erik, in all twenty of his years, had never thought the could never have forseen such an error getting in the way of his plans. It should've been one of the more obvious threats, really, except that Erik had taken the fact that he had never, not once, been sick. You could call it a blessing, or simply dumb luck, but not once had he had a fever or a sniffle. So it wasn't entirely far-fetched that he wouldn't think of so simple a complication. Not with all the other worries he had, not the least of which included how he was going to deal with his 'teacher', who, oddly enough, seemed to have abandoned him. And, seemingly, it wasn't too far out there to see reason in having all the ailments affect him at once.<p>

Erik gathered all this dimly, as at the present time, he could not rightly recall what he looked like.

All he knew was an all-encomapssing sense of failure.

* * *

><p>Charles went to him early in the morning, before the rest of them were awake and his father was off in the town collecting taxes and such. What he saw horrified him. The man who had been so strong and fearless, so colored and powerful looked as though he were a shell of himself. He looked small and shrunken in his cot, the sheets covered in sweat and vomit that didn't look as though it had been cleaned in days. Erik's eyes were closed, and his skin was pale. Covering his nose, Charles hefted the bucket and rag closer to the bed.<p>

"Oh, my friend." he said quietly. "What has happened to you?"

Shakily, Charles raised a hand to the man's forehead, and hastily snatched it back, shocked by how hot it was. The man was practically scorching! Hesitating for a moment, he pondered between cleaning the sheets, and cooling him down, realizing he was going to have to unclothe him. Gritting his teeth, he dunked the rag into the bucket of water, before placing it on his forehead. He'd melted down some snow from outside before arriving. Slowly, he then proceeded to remove the blankets from his friends overheated body, until finally, heart racing, he gently took his shirt off.

Underneath all of the sweat and neglect, it looked the same as it had the first time he'd seen it-he swallowed, then moved on. Not knowing what to say, and trembling with nervousness, he opted for a softly mumbled, "It's alright. You're going to be just fine. The Lord will help you through this." as he continued to go about wiping his chest down with another rag. He only wished that there was someone else there to help him. Erik needed to be placed somewhere else for awhile, at least until he was done cleaning his bed, but he didn't think he wasn't strong enough to lift him. Working around it, he uncomfortably understood that there was no way around unclothing him completely; his pants were stained and soiled and stank. Charles flushed. Sucking in a breath, and beginning to work slowly at the oblivious man's pants, he began to pray.

Tentatively, he removed Erik's undergarments, face turned away in embarassment, the more unsavory thoughts drowned out by his desperate and trembling voice.

"_Watch, O Lord, with those who wake, or watch, or weep tonight, and give your angels charge over those who sleep."_

Erik shifted slightly, as if in some tormenting memory, his face contorted in pain.

Charles looked up at him, eyes a little frightened but curious. Erik was mumbling something. Leaning in to hear better, Charles adjusted the cloth over the man's head, and adding a couple more of them around his neck.

"It's quite alright, my friend. What is it?"

Erik muttered again, and he realized that he was speaking in that odd language he sometimes did, his voice much thicker and more sluggish.

"_Meine Blume..."_

"I'm sorry my friend, I don't-"

Suddenly, Erik's hand, surprisingly sturdy, grips his wrist, his grey-green eyes narrow slits looking up at him. _"Meine zarte Blume."_

Feeling a little hot around the ears, Charles opted to continue on with his mission, tugging lightly at the man's grip. "Now, now, I'm going to help you just give me some time." To his surprise however, Erik's grip did not falter-if anything it tightened.

"_Meine zarte Blume,"_ he murmured, delirous.

"Erik, I-"

_"Sei mir nicht meine kleine Blume." _There was something more urgent in his voice now, and Charles was becoming slightly unnerved by it. He stares at him for a bit longer, and then resolving himself, returns his friend's grip. He resumed from where he'd left off.

"_Tend your sick ones, O Lord Christ._

_Rest your weary ones-"_

Erik shudders violently, and Charles jumps, nearly stumbling into the pile of feces-stained clothing on the floor. He is increasingly aware of Erik's nakedness and he is struggling very hard to forget this little detail and oh how he wishes that he could get the cleaning over with.

Erik shudders again, and begins to dry heave, hand still grasping tightly at his wrist. Charles is too frightened to let go now.

_"Schierten."_ he mutters. His eyes suddenly become wild, crazed, now appearing close to popping out of his head as a bit if drool seeps out of his mouth, and the boy nearly screams in terror. _"Schierten!"_ he repeats hysterically, snatching him closer.

Erik's eyes are glassy and he seems to be staring not at him, but at something far away and terrifying.

"Erik, my friend!" Charles yelps, his wrist being clenched painfully. "Please, my friend I don't understand. I don't know what you are saying, please."

_"Mama!"_ the servant's eyes fill with tears for a moment and that scares Charles more than anything thus far. _"Mama, ist die Mission gescheitert ist! Schierten, Mama!"_

He shakes him, and Charles gasps, startled. He pulls him into him, burying Charles's face into his neck, nose in his hair._"Oh, meine Engel, den ich nicht wollen."_

Charles' chest tightens, breath coming in rapidly, and he tries to struggle. However, the pleading look Erik gives him, or rather, the desperate look on his face, stills him. Taking a breath, he continues to pray over his rambling.

_"B-bless y-your dying ones."_ Charles chokes up, and vaguely brushes the tears from his face with his free hand.

_"Oh, meine Engel." _Erik moans again. _"Nicht mehr."_

_"Soothe-soothe your suffering ones._

_Pity your-your afflicted ones._

_Shield your joyous ones._

_And for all your love's sake. Amen."_

Erik gives one sudden, shuddering breath and falls silent, his eyes closed. His grip on his arm finally loosens but Charles finds that he cannot remove it.

"Erik?" he asks quietly. He simply lays there, unmoving. Charles panics. "Oh, Lord God please no, _Erik!"_

Erik's eyes open slowly again. "_Engel..."_ he whispers.

"A-angel?" Charles' face darkens. "If you see angels-that is very good, yes?" But he can barely keep the dread out of his voice, and he struggles trying to find a prayer for the dying. He hopes he won't have to use it. He removes the cloth from his head, and replaces it with a fresh one.

_"Ich muss Ihnen nicht verran."_

"I will get you some fresh clothes, Erik. I'll burn these, and get you some from the old store. That will be nice won't it?" he finally removes his hand from his grip. "I'm sure He will help you through this. You are bound for important things in your life."

Erik stares up at him in the first moment of lucidity since he has arrived. His stare is intense and cold, and his next words come out in a flat monotone.

_"Mein Herz ist betrübt."_

* * *

><p>When Father finds out what he did, he beats Charles soundly on the dining room floor.<p>

"And what would make you do something like that for a servant? What if you get ill?"

Charles' lower lip trembled. "It-it is God's decision whether I get ill or not. I will not get ill for helping him." Sebastian raises his hand as if to strike him again, and then pauses as if lost in thought.

"You are being vile, Charles. You are not praticing obedience."

He lowers his head. "But I-I only wish to-to practice God's word. It is our holy duty to help those in need."

Father punches him so hard in the face that he falls backward, hands grasping his bleeding nose. He gasps, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes, in utter confusion. Father has often gotten angry at him before, but never has he gazed upon him with such full-blown rage. And, this time it is not helped by the fact that Charles thinks he is doing what is wouldn't dare say it, but perhaps his father is mistaken.

"It is not your place to tell me the wills and wants of God." Sebastian snarls at him. "You forget your place, child. Do not forget the fate of those who dishonor their fathers." Seeing Charles' terrified face, he softens. "Come now, child. There is no need for you to fret." Reaching a hand out to him, he caresses his face. "I know you care very much about the lesser people. But there is no need to take such unnecessary risks. You are such a good child;you have already done so much to help him already. If he doesn't get better, I will simply get you a new one."

He smile indulgently down at him, and Charles feels a certain warmness in his heart.

"Better an unneccessary risk, than a preventable tragedy." he says quietly.

* * *

><p>When Charles goes to him the next day and touches his head, it has cooled.<p>

* * *

><p>an:So this was probably going to be longer but ugh, I get the feeling that less is probably better with this one, ALSO, NEXT CHAPTER _FINALLY THE SMEX BE COMING._ I'm sorry I took so long to update, and if this seems like such a filler or a drag, but I feel like this will be the last hurdle that gets their relationship to BOOM. Anyway, next chapter should be long full of a sort-of important plot phase, as well as some foreboding and should be up by either tomorrow or Sunday. I was going to do two updates in one day, but I feel like I'm way behind schedule, and haven't updated in a long ass time besides.

NOTES ON THE TEXT:

1. _Meine zart Blume-_My delicate little flower.

2._Sei mir nicht meine kleine Blume-_Do not leave me my little flower.

3._Scheirten-_Failure.

4._Mama, ist die Mission gescheitert ist!-_Mama, the mission is a failure.

5._Oh, meine Engel, den ich nicht wollen-_Oh, my angel, I do not want to.

6._Nicht mehr.-_Not anymore.

7._Ich muss Ihnen nicht verran.-_I mustn't betray them.

8._Mein Herz ist betrübt-_My heart is troubled.

9. Um,in this time period, I'm not sure if they knew that disease were contagious, but I'm pretty sure they saw sikness as a sign of evil or sin. Yeah.

Please review and I hope you like it, despite my rambling plot points. *sighs at self*


	16. Sins of the Father

a/n:Huzzah readers! I'm kind of nervous about this chapter, because I'm skittish about my sex writing skills. To be perfectly honest with you guys. And things may not be all that chipper between them. Because, you know. _Religon._ This is going to be a little difficult to write, but not as hard as the previous chapter, because this has been bouncing around in my head ever since I first began this story back in July. So, it depends, I might just finish this faster than chapter fifteen which took about three or four days to write. Anyway, spring time in our little universe!

Chapter Sixteen: Sins of the Father

_He is hiding. Outside, he can hear the distant screams of other people, people he'd grown so close to in his short years of life, who seem like strangers now, where the sounds of their distress warps them into faceless monsters. His mother usheres him to be quiet, pressing a finger to her lips as she closes the door. In her haste however, she leaves it open a crack, and he can see them when they knock the door down._

_..._

Spring arrived. And with it, Erik's sickness passed, giving Charles the chance to heave a collective sigh of relief. Charles had stopped seeing him almost as soon as his fever went down, he was so nervous. He could never remember a time when he'd felt so relieved and forboding at the same time. He was happy that Erik was healthy once again, but he was still more than a little afraid about how their lessons would go now. He felt as though he had stumbled upon something private, had seen his friend in one of the most vulnerable moments in his life. It felt as though he had invaded somehow, intruded on the man's most private moments. Charles didn't feel right about it, and he didn't know how to go about dealing with him now that he had seen such a frightened part of him. Giving a low sigh as he shut the book of Proverbs with a loud thump, he resolved to say nothing. That seemed to be the prevalent solution to everything these days.

...

To Charles' horror and Raven's utter delight, Cain returned shortly after Erik's fever came down. Dreading the moment when they would see each other, Charles had attempted to hide as well as he could from him, but eventually his father forced him out. To his surprise however, Cain seemed even more determined than he to avoid him, and whenever he was in his presence, he put up a superb act of pretending as if Charles didn't exist and went about his business, following his father into silent, brooding meetings and secretive assignments off in the town. It is strange and unnerving and gives Charles the feeling of being something contaminated.

...

It was raining harder now. Since he'd woken up, there had been the usual light spring showers that he'd always enjoyed as a child, but now the rain poured down on them so viciously it was as if the ocean had spit up on itself. Erik watched it from his doorway, his eyes narrowed the slightest as he looked in the direction of the house. He doesn't understand. The boy had left him. Had seemingly lost all interest in him at all. His lips curled at the thought. In the end, Charles really wasn't so different from the rest of them at all-sure he'd had his fun playing with him, but once the novelty had run out, he'd discarded him as if he were just another one of his toys. What had he been thinking anyway. Charles had just been another distraction, something to kill time with until the time was right. It was only fitting that the boy should grow bored with him only a few months before the deadline. Then Erik could kill Sebastian in peace, without any semblance of guilt on his part.

Charles deserved it anyway.

For being that _thing's_ spawn.

For toying with him.

For leaving him.

Erik can still feel his cool hand on his cheek.

_My angel..._

_..._

Sebastian never had visitors. Business was conducted entirely in the town, and the citizens knew never to come to the house and ask for a blessing. In fact, if he were to look back, Charles had never seen anyone besides his family come to the estate unless they were servants, and all of them, save for Erik, had been here since he was a young child. So he found it exceedingly odd when he saw the man, someone he had never seen before, sitting at their dinner table one evening as if he were here everyday.

Father gave him a significant look as he sat down, warning him with his eyes against saying anything. Instead, they continued on with their conversation as if there was no one but them in the room, Mother the only one who appeared to be observing them intently.

...

It didn't take long for Charles to figure that he did not like this man. There was something slightly off about him-he was a large, greasy man, who smiled through his teeth, giving off the impression of pain-stricken rodent, rather than anything reassuring and he gave off the air of someone who would sell his own mother if it benefited him, rather than someone you could place confidence in. Father apparently did although he never quite indulged who he was, or what he was here for, and he would often have Charles run himself ragged doing errands for them, rather than have the servants do it, which he found odd. The man, whose name was Waleran if he recalled correctly, would only sneer at him and then look back at his father in approval, as if the boy had proven himself worthy of some difficult act, and the two of them would go back to their mutterings and their meetings. Charles could only hope for the times when he could get away from the both of them, to get to a place where his skin was not crawling.

...

Emmaline was busy combing Raven's hair when she brought it up to him, and Cain had to bite his tongue, not wishing to say too much in front of the child.

"Has there been anything particularly...obstructive, since that little incident?" she asks smoothly, parting a piece of the girl's hair, and giving her a light tap when she flinched at the pain.

Cain's eyes darted. It had been weeks since the assassination, and despite Sebastian's fervent reassurances, lately things hadn't been going exactly as planned. Things seemed to be following apart a bit actually. Suspicions were already being brought up at conferences.

"What would make you say that?" he asked quietly, fiddling with his fingers.

Emmaline tsked. "Please. Even I can notice how much more..." he paused with an expression as if she had tasted something vile. "Forceful he's been with Charles. I know my husband enough to know that he normally treats the boy as if he were a flower-delicate, as if he cannot fend for himself. If he is ever violent to Charles, it is to reinforce his place. Or if he is upset about something. Now tell me, from what you've seen, which is it?"

To be perfectly honest, Cain hadn't the faintest idea how he was supposed to tell the difference between one beating and another-pain was pain as much as he could recall.

But his uncle did seem to be edge lately-Waleran was proof enough of that.

The man made his skin crawl, and he shuddered at the thought of some of his statements about the church, most coming way too close to blasphemy for Cain's liking.

In short, he doesn't really have an answer, at least not one that he can give. And this almost scares him more than anything.

...

It is raining. Charles' hair is getting drenched, and he can practically hear his father screaming in his ear once he returns home. But he needs to be alone, at least for a little while, and he hasn't had the oppurtunity to be by himself since their 'guest' decided to show up and treat him as if he were one of their servants. He is also snide and condescending with a mocking smile reserved just for him. This wouldn't be so bad if he weren't constantly questioning Charles' allegiance to his father.

"Yes, but how much do you love your father?

How much are you willing to do for him?

How well do you think he is spreading the word?"

It is awkward and embarassing, and he wishes he could make him stop, because at the moment, his loyalty is conflicted; but whenever he tries to tell his father about it, he is scolded fiercly. And if anything, Father seems to be encouraging Waleran's behavior.

So tonight, he walks by himself through the estate, thoughts stormy.

He knows he shouldn't be bothered by the man-he must be humble after all. Really, he hasn't done anything really awful except make him uncomfortable. And he shouldn't be so uptight about it. It isn't his place to, unless his loyalty really _is_ questionable, and that thought is unacceptable.

It is then that he realizes he has wandered near their garden. And as he looks at the small seedlings, his thoughts instantly turn to Erik.

He is a terrible friend.

Crouching down, he buries his face into his hands, he feels a wetness between his fingers and he cannot convince himself that it is just the rain, no matter how much he wants to.

He doesn't know how long he sits there, knees beginning to cramp painfully, body soaked, shivering alone in the cold.

"And what're you doing out so late by yourself, _Mausi?"_

Charles freezes, and turns slowly towards the voice.

"Erik?" he says breathlessly. He has appeared almost as an apparition, staring down at him, as rigid as if it were as warm as the day they first met. Erik's gaze when he looks at him, softens just the slightest before hardening again.

"Well, come on, you're freezing."

"Wha-"

"Dammit, Charles." Erik sighed, grabbing him by the shoulder. "You're going to get sick if you don't come inside."

"No!" Charles says loudly before collecting himself. Looking down at his feet he adds surily, "I can't go in there."

"Why not?" his brow creases in concern before turning in the direction of the house.

"I just-I just need to be by myself for a bit. Ok? I just can't-I can't stand being in there for a while." Charles instantly feels ashamed when Erik looks down at him. He's being horrid.

"Come on then." Erik repeats pulling him along. "I think I've missed out on enough lessons as it is anyway."

...

They ended up playing chess instead of getting much learning done. It was enjoyable anyway, and Charles could almost say that he was having fun. That is, until,

"So what troubles you, _Mausi?_ What brings you out into the cold this evening?"

His fingers froze as he stared at the board. He let loose a long sigh. Cain's hands seemed to be crawling all over him again, while Waleran looked down on the two of them and smirked.

"Things have been-difficult-for a little while."

"I imagine, since you seem to have forgotten all about me lately."

Charles gives a quiet gasp and looks up at him in shock. The man's tone is bitter, and he seems to be glaring at him now, the teasing tone from a moment ago gone.

"I swear to you my friend," he replies hastily. "I meant nothing by it. I do not wish to offend you or-"

"Offended?" Erik scoffs. "What use am I after all, to the master of the house? I know when it is my turn to entertain."

Charles doesn't quite know what to say to that.

His gaze falls to his hand.

"There is a man here." he told him quietly. "And I know that I am supposed to be kind to guests. I know that I am not to judge who have manners different from mine. And yet-the way he looks at me, the way he speaks to me as if I were a child, or as if I were stupid, or-or-" he swallows. "Forgive me, Erik. I am being prideful." Erik simply stares at him over the set, eyes vaguely curious.

Charles sucks in another breath, speaking slowly. "F-father...it would seem that no matter what I do he is angry with me. It is as if I can no longer please him. And I get the feeling that he is preparing me for something I likely can't handle. Or at least something he doesn't think I can. And that is why he is upset with me. I wish I could find out what it is that he wants-so that he won't-won't-"

_Do _**not**___cry._ he silently admonished himself before sucking in yet another shaky breath.

"And my cousin...he-he is-"

Charles shut his mouth quickly. It would probably be best not to talk about it. What would Erik _think_ of him?

There was a heavy silence while Erik simply sat and stared at him, an inscrutable look on his face.

"Why do you let them do you let them treat you like this, Charles?" he said finally, his voice quiet.

He gave him a confused glance. "What do you mean?"

"Can't you see how they're manipulating you? Can't you see how poorly they treat you? How many times has your father beaten you the past few weaks alone? I have heard him, around the place. And all while your mother doesn't even seem to recognize you as her own son. Why do you let them do this to you, Charles? Why?" his tone is almost pleading.

Charles only smiles at him. "Oh my friend." he replies with the slightest chuckle. "It isn't like that at all."

"You just _told_ me that you've been falling apart because of this!" Erik said incredulously. "You just _said_-"

Charles lowered his eyes. "That is not what I meant. I only wish for some way to make him happy."

"You are lying to yourself, Charles." Erik said breathlessly. "How can you continue to try and please someone who is so selfish?"

Charles looked affronted. "My father has only the interests of the Word of God and how best to spread his message of love with the people. It is why he is a bishop."

"Or because he is only interested in getting money out of the townspeople." Erik replied bitterly. He was going too far and he knew it, but ever since he had met Charles, it seemed as if he couldn't maintain his cool for anything.

"Preaching the word of the lord is a humble work." the boy insisted firmly. "My father has _told_ me that it isn't something you profit off of."

He let loose a harsh bark of laughter. "Charles, _honestly. _I'm beginning to think that you are _stupid._" He spread his hands out in the direction of the house. "Look around you, Charles. After what you saw in the town, can you honestly say that you are living humbly? And how do you think you can afford all of this? The servants, the food, the fine clothing, the hot water, _anything?_"

Charles swallowed. "My father works as a landlord as-as well."

"Yes, and do you know what a landlord does?"

He avoided his eyes. "Did you even know that the church takes the majority of the town's money in taxes? It's supposed to be for the benefit of the church so that people can worship 'properly', I suppose, but most of it goes to benefit your father and his colleagues."

"My father-my father has recently acc-accepted the oppurtunity to further help people by becoming-becoming pope. He-he is trying to do good." Charles continued to insist weakly. His hand shaking.

Erik suddenly thought of something. "Tell me, Charles. What does the pope do?"

He paused and crinkled his brow in thought." As the pope, Father will serve as the mouthpiece of God. It is a duty given only to those who have proved themselves to be worthy of God's praise." He paused. "It is a humbling oppurtunity."

Erik only glared at him.

"Charles, the pope has authority over the king."

"The king?"

Erik was floored.

Charles stared down at his own hands. "I may not be certain of what it is exactly that my father does when he is off in town. Nor am I exactly sure what my-my cousin does with him. I do not know why Mother is so distant with me. and I do not know why my sister is becomes so angry with me sometimes." He looked up at him. "However, I _do_ know that, deep down, all anyone wants to do is good. People are genuinely good at heart and all anyone wants is to the best for everyone. That is why I cannot get angry with any of them. I know that we do not always get along, but I know that they only want what's best."

He gave him a small, nervous half-smile, when he looked back up at him.

And that's when Erik realized that they didn't deserve him.

None of them deserved to have someone so naive, so innocent and pure living with them. They didn't deserve his smile or his kind words. Emmaline didn't deserve to have given birth to him, Cain didn't deserve to be able to grow up with him, Raven didn't deserve his trust or his confidence.

And that _thing, _ that _monster_ didn't deserve to have someone as loyal and blind as him under his was disgusting and it was unfair that Charles had to live in this place.

It wasn't fair because he knew that eventually, whether he believed it or not, Charles, in his naiviety and kindness would end up being just as dangerous as the rest of them.

And yet all the same...he-he couldn't help but wonder if this is why he was so attracted to him in the first place. Is that why he found that he couldn't keep his head around him lately? Or was this just the result of long-restrained lust? It didn't matter. It was all the same now anyway.

He stared at him for a very long time before replying. He drew in a ling, slow breath, closing his eyes for a moment before speaking. It was time that he got what he had been avoiding out of the way, before he made anymore mistakes avoiding it.

_He could hear his mother screaming._

"Charles."

He was looking at his hands again, and would not look up at him.

"Oh, Charles." Erik sighed. _"Charles."_

He rose to his feet, and went to sit closer to him, Charles' eye still averting his. "I have been so foolish. So _foolish_ about myself. I don't think I have ever been so stupid about my own emotions. So...in denial. It is only now that I realize what these feelings...what they are." He reached down to touch Charles' face almost imploringly.

"Tell me, Charles. Do you deny these feelings?"

The boy finally looked up at him, and he saw that his eyes were red with unshed tears. His voice trembled as he spoke.

"I do not."

The kiss was crushing.

...

Raven was bored. She was bored and she was growing annoyed. Father and Mother were busy scheming or whatever they did with the other two, Cain looking nervous and tense, as if he were being condemned, and and that strange Waleran man, grinning as if he owned the damned place. Being alone bothered her a lot more than it should've lately. She wondered what Erik was doing right about now. Laying back on her bed, she closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the rain pounding on the roof.

The two of them hadn't been talking for awhile, so she shoul'dve felt better. She should have...

She pounced from her bed to the floor, pulling on her shoes, then hesitated. It really didn't matter all that much did it? She shouldn't care. But then...Charles had been acting a bit troubled lately.

Surely it wouldn't mean much if she went to check up on him.

Raven made her way to his room, tip-toeing through the house, and knocking lightly on his door. When he didn't answer, she pushed the door gently open.

"Charles...?" she inquired softly.

The room was empty. She frowned. Curiousity piqued, she wrapped her cloak tighter around her and looked his window, at the pouring rain, the sky streaked with the occasional, violent stroke of lightning.

...

_There are perhaps three of them at the most, but their presence suffocates their small home. They immediately begin knocking things over, tearing things apart as his mother cowers in the corner, hand clasped tightly over her mouth, the other hand clutching tightly at her robe, covering herself. Erik trembled in the cabinet, hoping against all hope that these bad men would just leave. And now-now they were hurting his mother! He squeezed his eyes shut, willing them away. One of them grabbed her by her hair, throwing her to the ground and the largest of them moved in, laughing and kidding around as if this were all some kind of horrible joke, and now they were all moving over her and-_

Erik had him against the wall, licking and biting at his neck ravenously. Charles' eyes were tightly shut, his skin flushed and his hands pressing lightly at his shoulders in a feeble attempt to fend him off. He could barely suppress a whimper.

"Oh, Erik, please." he said breathlessly, with a desperate shake of his head, chest heaving. "We mustn't."

Erik only held onto him tighter. "I do not care much for your fears right now, Charles." he breathed harshly into his ear. "I know that you desire it as much as I." His hand lowered to his trousers, "For the touch that you have even denied yourself."

The boy's voice cracked when he spoke next, his eyes seeming elsewhere. "I-I do not know how, Erik." He added almost in a sob, "I have never felt it until-"

"Shh, shh. It will be alright, my little angel."

He had waited too long for this-much too long. And now here he was, sweaty and trembling beneath him, so beautiful and whimpering. His precious _Mausi..._

Erik grabbed him by his chin and kissed him fully on the mouth, and he could feel Charles' knees buckling.

He parted from him, and the look in Charles' eyes-reluctant arousal, and the look of mingled excitement and fear, filled him with such a strong wave of need, he began to feel his last pretense of control slip away.

Charles let out a shocked gasp, as Erik violently tore at his clothing, and he could feel the hard, fleshly warmth of his member against his thigh.

"E-erik-I-"

"Hush, hush little mouse." he murmured pressing reassuring kisses along his face. "It will be alright. You will enjoy it."

Charles paused before a moment, collecting his breath, gazing at the floor for a moment before gathering himself. His stomach fluttered, and his chest burned, and he had never been so afraid and yet so desperate for something in his life. He wasn't even sure he knew what was happening-only that Erik's kiss, Erik's touch set off something inside him, something like a great fire somewhere deep down in his soul. The feeling this man gave him, of being posessed and desired, made him open his legs just the slightest, barely aware of what he was doing, and struggling to get the thoughts of how this was wrong, wrong, _WRONG!_ out of his head.

He opened himself up to him, and Erik more than eagerly obliged.

His hands were hot, rough, exploring, and they were all over him, revering and searching.

When the fingers, a little fumbling, found some space between his legs, he felt them prod until they parted him, until he shoved them inside.

Charles gave a sharp yelp in shock and pain, tossing his head back against the wall.

"We _mustn't_." Charles breathed again. But Erik was looking at him, and he was drowning.

...

Shivering in the rain, Raven was beginning to feel more than a little bit foolish, the downpour soaking her to the bone. Mother would scold her severely if she was caught running the risk of getting sick again. She wasn't sure what she'd hope to find out here-even now she felt the soft trickle of doubt pull at the back of her mind. It wasn't really any of her business was it? But still, she pressed on, wrapping her cloak more tightly about her, eyes searching.

The grounds were empty, lonesome, and partially flooded, her feet squishing in the ground.

It didn't take her long before she saw the servant's quarters.

She hesitated outside the door, hand trembling. What did she think she was going to say to him? What was she doing here in the first place? What did she hope to achieve? Drawing breath, she placed a trembling hand on the door, and pushed it open just the slightest.

The door was open just the slightest so that she could see, but that was enough to freeze her in her place.

Raven could not say exactly what she was seeing at first. Her eyes registered, and yet they did not believe.

Erik's back was to her, and Charles was pressed against the wall beneath him, eyes scrunched tight shut, mouth hanging ajar. For a brief moment, Raven attempted to convince herself that Erik was simply trying to help him with something, trying to-trying to-

But they were much too close together, Erik was moving much too harshly, much too quickly for this thought to even fester for long.

Their movements were foreign, yet somehow familiar, a mimicry of the few times she had seen her mother and father do the same, in stolen and forbidden moments. Her breathing was shallow, and vaguely she wondered how they did not hear the sound of her thundering heart, her hand shaking on the door.

Erik's body moved, twisting just the slightest and Charles jolted upward, his eyes springing open to the ceiling. His mouth openend in a sound that was half-pain, half-ecstasy, but Raven did not hear it.

Her ears felt as if she had been dunked under water, like the time she had attempted to drown herself so that the servant could save her, the blood rushing violently to her head as her eyes burned as if rejecting the sight. As if through a foggy mirror, she saw Charles' lips move, whispering something into the man's ear.

She backed away slowly, her knees weak.

"C-Charles?" she whimpered.

She did not recall running.

...

When Erik entered him, Charles had let loose a loud yelp of pain, and his whole bodt had shook violently and he could feel himself beginning to reject the man's touch.

That made Erik angry. He had frowned, and placed a hand onto his mouth and the boy had reached a hand feebly to lift it off. He felt maddend, ravenous, and he felt the slightest bit of outrage, and he found that for a moment, he wanted nothing more than to cause him utter pain, to hear him scream and cry and plead, to make him feel on the outside what his insides were feeling, to make his body burn with the hatred and horror he felt at himself.

He shouldn't be so weak. He shouldn't be giving in like this. Even now, he hated himself for allowing himself be so easily swayed, so easily distracted. How could he even be feeling anything at all for this boy? But Charles was filled with heat, and his mouth was letting out the most delightful sounds, and he was oh so very _sweet_. And his body marked so beautifully, it was all he could take not to mark every part of him, just to see that beautiful coloring. Charles' eyes were blown, looking dazedly about him, unseeing. His mouth was bright red with saliva, and a sheen of sweat matted his hair done in tangled wisps, and he let loose the most gorgeous sounds. It was precisely how he could've imagined it to be.

And yet, Charles' eyes sparkled with tears.

He is mewling like a kitten, his hands clawing at the back of his head, legs wrapping tightly around him, pulling him closer, his chest heaving, and his body begging for more, oh so much more, please god don't let it stop here, don't let it-

And yet, Charles is crying, face soaked with tears, his breath shuddering in a sob of pleasure.

"I love you," Charles breathes into his ear and his heart shatters to hear the words. "I love you." he whispers again, against his ear, and he is in so much pain.

Erik has never seen something so beautiful.

It doesn't take him long after that.

The wetness sticks to the back of the boy's legs, dripping down between them, and it is then that Erik stops to think that this was his first time. His first time coming, his first time being taken. His blood drips to the floor. Erik lays against him for awhile, his head buried into his neck, listening to the ragged sound of his breathing as he watches the blood form into a small puddle beneath them, mixing with their seed.

It was probably a minute or so that they stayed like that, before Charles' knees gave out, and he slid to the floor, taking Erik with him.

He was sobbing in earnest now, and he curled into himself.

Erik stared at him dully.

"You did not enjoy it."

But Charles shook his head violently at that. "I have never felt something so-so-I have never enjoyed something so much." That fact seemed to crush him, make him smaller, and there seemed no end to his crying. "I love you, Erik." he said again, and the words seemed to crush his very being.

Erik wanted to say the words. Wanted to return them, to wipe his tears away and say that everything would be alright after this. But he knew it would be a lie.

"We have sinned. We have sinned." Charles muttered.

Erik could only see his mother's face.

He pulled Charles close to him, rested the boy's head against his chest, and gently stroked his face, letting him rock against him.

"My little mouse." he whispered into his hair, but he could not find what words to say.

...

_There was another man now, a large man swathed in a cloak, large stone rings gleaming on his fingers. He presided over the affairs coolly._

_She clutched herself when they were done, shaking violently, face buried into the floor. The men only laughed, only now Erik knew that they were not men, but the monsters Mother had told him about in stories. Monsters with scales, who breathed fire, and poisoned everything they touched, monsters that stunk of the dead and had snakes for toungues._

_Only now there were no heroes to stop them._

_There was another man now, a large man swathed in a cloak, large stone rings gleaming on his fingers. He presided over the affairs coolly._

_"Hurry now with the heathen woman," he said impatiently. "We still have many more to go, and I just got word that my son has arrived." They all looked to him as he skimmed through pages of scripture, looking bored_

_One of them took his sword and for a moment Erik saw it glint in the dim light, before he closed his eyes and let everything go black._

a/n:1/30/12 Omg. This is not as good as I wanted, and way later than I'd intented, but bughui I was suffering THE BLOCK for a long freaking time. I hope this isn't disappointing...

I knew when I started that the first sex was going to be more on the violent side, but I'm not too good at the shmex scenes. *covers face* And that ending scene...I fucked that up...


End file.
